


you're my inspiration (as i stand alone against the world)

by Spikedluv



Series: Declaration Series [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cameos by other AOS and CACW characters, Clint POV, Established Relationship, M/M, Original Character(s), Very minor implication of Steve/Bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 20:28:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7329583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Steve breaks Clint and the others out of the Raft, they need someplace to lay low for a while so they can regroup.  Since Phil could use some super-powered assistance, it’s a good thing that ‘laying low’ isn’t really in their vocabulary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're my inspiration (as i stand alone against the world)

**Author's Note:**

> The story takes place post-AoS ep 3.19 Failed Experiments and post-Captain America: Civil War. Additionally, there are minor spoilers for Age of Ultron and a clip from AOS 3.20 Emancipation.
> 
> This story is part of the [Declaration Series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/253336), but it does not immediately follow the first two stories given that at least a year has passed since the events of the last posted story. (And given that the stories that ~would follow the first two stories are as yet un-written. *head desk*)
> 
> Title taken from David Cook’s ‘Declaration.
> 
> Written: June 28, 2016

Agent Melinda May was there to greet them when Steve set the Quinjet down in Zephyr One’s landing bay. Clint undid the harness strapping him in and was out of his seat before the engines had been shut down. He slapped his palm against the controls and strode down the ramp, not waiting for the others. Not even Wanda and Scott, who, it could be argued, were his responsibility; they were in good hands with Steve.

“May,” Clint said when he saw her.

“Barton.” May looked about as happy to see him as usual, which Clint took as a good sign.

“Is anyone going to tell us where we are?” Sam said as he followed Clint down the ramp.

“Where is he?” Clint asked May, ignoring Sam’s question, though he kind of wished he could be there when Steve admitted that the safehouse he’d brought them to was a secret SHIELD base.

May tilted her head towards the front of the plane and Clint took off, leaving her to deal with the others. He should’ve felt a little more guilty for just abandoning them, but he didn’t want to delay his reunion with Phil. No one challenged Clint as he made his way through the plane. Clint paused when he finally saw Phil standing inside the operations center, hands at his side, head tilted to the side as he watched a screen. Just seeing Phil, knowing that he was alive, could still take Clint’s breath away.

A few agents glanced up when Clint stepped into operations, but quickly returned to their task when they recognized him. A few of them even allowed a flash of relief to show before their expressions went blank again. That couldn’t be good. Clint looked more closely at the screens they were each watching. Most of them were showing a lot of gunfire, but one showed a frozen image of . . .

“Is that Ward?” Clint said, surprised.

The room went silent, the only sound the tapping of keys and the hum of electronics as the agents gave their screens 110% of their attention.

“Not exactly,” Phil said, still staring at the screen. He turned to face Clint, a little bit of the stiffness easing out of his shoulders when their eyes met.

“I thought he was dead,” Clint blurted.

“He is,” Phil said decisively. “Give us the room,” he ordered.

Clint had only seen agents, male and female alike, move that fast when a ‘Captain America is in the building’ alert went out.

“Welcome back,” Phil said, once they were alone.

“Took you long enough to come get me,” Clint said lightly, his gaze raking over Phil, taking in the tight lines around his eyes and lips and wondering what had put them there.

Phil raised an eyebrow. “Sorry about that. I was a little busy taking down HYDRA and losing Skye . . . Daisy, damn it!”

Clint ignored Phil’s outburst, and even his comment about taking down HYDRA, as concern for someone other than Phil bloomed in his chest. “Is she dead?”

“No.” Phil shook his head, then glanced at the frozen image of apparently-but-not-really Ward and Daisy. “Taken. It’s a long story, and we’re about to have company.”

“Later then,” Clint said, not making it a question. “Do we have time for a hug?”

Phil glanced over Clint’s shoulder even as he said, “There’s no hugging in the operations center, Barton.”

Clint bit back a grin at the familiar amused slash exasperated tone. “You rescued me from Ross’ gulag, you don’t think that deserves a hug?” Clint pushed. Because that’s what he did. It was his thing, as much as he had a thing that wasn’t shooting people with pointy objects. Nat would tell you.

“Later,” Phil said, the corner of his lips twitching. “And technically, Captain America rescued you.”

“I’ve already hugged him,” Clint said, and watched the color deepen in Phil’s cheeks as he imagined it. “And if we’re being _technical_ , then it was Steve Rogers who rescued me, not Captain America, because apparently he’s left his shield behind.”

Phil sighed. “I heard. And just when I get one.”

This time Clint’s eyebrows went up.

“Later,” Phil said, straightening to greet their guests who had been delivered to operations by May.

“Later’s getting pretty full,” Clint observed quietly.

Phil gave Clint another familiar look, this one told him to behave, but it didn’t entirely cover his reaction to Clint’s comment. He curled his pinky around Clint’s before moving past him. Clint turned so he stood at Phil’s back, and a little to the left so he had a good view.

“Staff Sergeant Wilson, Mr. Lang, Ms. Maximoff, welcome to SHIELD.”

Clint watched Sam’s eyes narrow as he glanced at Steve, who gave him a ‘what can you do’ shrug. From Sam’s expression, Clint figured that Steve had left Sam’s question unanswered and they’d have some talking to do later, as well.

Scott looked around them at the tech in the operations center, a confused furrow splitting his brow. “I thought SHIELD didn’t exist anymore.”

“Not officially,” Phil agreed equably. “But we’re still the good guys.”

Steve’s eyebrow went up. It would have been even more impressive if Clint hadn’t gotten used to being eyebrowed by Phil.

“When we haven’t been infiltrated by HYDRA,” Phil allowed. “The three of you are welcome to stay with us as long as you need to,” he assured Sam, Scott, and Wanda.

“What about Steve and Clint?” Wanda said when they were left out of the invitation.

“I’ve got something I need to do,” Steve said.

“And I already know I’m welcome.” Clint smirked.

The look May gave him was unimpressed. Phil reached back and touched Clint’s hand. Clint thought it was an uncharacteristic PDA until the electric shock registered.

“Ow!” Clint jerked his hand back. “That’s new,” he said as he rubbed the spot where he’d received the shock. “You can control that, right? I mean, no unexpected shocks when you’re, uh, in the shower, say?”

Phil didn’t have a chance to answer – or kill Clint – because just then Steve noticed the action being replayed on the various screens. “What’s going on here?”

“Coulson’s been busy,” Clint said. “Maybe we should all sit down and fill each other in.”

“When did you get so smart?” May said drolly.

“Hanging out with Coulson,” Clint said. “It rubbed off.”

“I can’t tell if that’s sexual innuendo, or not,” Scott said to Wanda.

Wanda eyed Clint. “It’s Clint,” she said, “so I’m pretty sure it is.” She turned her gaze onto Phil, then gave Clint an impressed look that Phil pretended not to see, though Clint knew he’d pay for it later.

“Agent May,” Phil said. “Would you please escort everyone to the conference room via the galley?”

“I could eat something,” Sam said, momentarily forgetting that he was in a SHIELD plane. “Steve sprang us before we got our morning gruel.”

“Coffee,” Clint sighed.

“Don’t touch the coffee machine,” May said sharply. “The last time you were here you broke it.”

“Fitz fixed it,” Clint said without any guilt. Coffee machines shouldn’t be so hard to figure out before you’ve had the caffeine they were supposed to supply.

Clint stayed back with Phil while he got the agents he’d evicted back to work, and then they walked to the galley together. The gang was still there, putting together sandwiches. Clint moved directly to the coffee pot, which was already full. He poured two mugs, fixed them, and handed one to Phil.

Wanda slid one of the sandwiches she’d made to Clint. “You’ve been holding back.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Clint said. He set down his mug and picked up half the sandwich, took a bite, and chewed with his mouth open.

Wanda merely gave him a sweet smile and said, “I grew up with a brother, so I’m immune. I’m not going to let it go. No matter how gross you are.”

“Let what go?” Clint said. He grabbed the plate and Phil picked up Clint’s mug when they all moved to the conference room.

Phil went to the head of the table and Clint automatically took the seat at his left. Phil set Clint’s mug in front of him and Clint set the plate and half sandwich in front of Phil as if they’d been doing this dance their entire lives. Clint knew the others were probably taking note of it – those who didn’t already know – but Clint didn’t care. He’d grown tired of hiding how he felt about Phil, and these days he didn’t have to.

Phil picked up the sandwich almost absently and took a bite. From her place on Phil’s right May gave Clint an approving look.

“I’ve already told Agent Coulson some of this when he contacted me,” Steve said, and then went on to ...

Phil told them about the capture of Gideon Malick, and the subsequent simultaneous attacks on all of HYDRAs holdings based on the intel they’d gotten from him. In turn, Steve gave Phil and May better information about the Sokovia Accord debacle, the capture of Bucky, the emergence of the Winter Soldier, and the ensuing fights among the divided Avengers, including what happened at the bunker in Siberia than the media had.

“Gideon Malick. Why does that name sound familiar?” Scott asked.

“Gideon Malick was on the World Security Council,” Phil explained.

Sam gave a low whistle.

“Would Malick know about Bucky?” Steve said. “About the Winter Soldier Program?”

“Probably,” Phil said. “Unfortunately, Gideon Malick is dead.”

Clint watched the hope that had flared to life in Steve’s eyes die out like the light of a collapsing star.

“What did you need from him?” Phil said gently.

“Information,” Steve said. “On how to deprogram Bucky.”

“Where’s Sergeant Barnes now?” May said, speaking with more understanding than Clint would’ve expected.

“Someplace safe,” Steve said. “He put himself back on ice until we figure this out. He doesn’t want anyone else to trigger the Soldier, to use him to hurt someone.”

Phil nodded. “What about the documents left behind at the Siberian facility?”

“We were in a bit of a hurry when we left,” Steve said dryly. “We didn’t have time to look through boxes of files. I went back, but the place had been cleared out. Including the cryostasis chambers and the bodies that were inside them.”

Phil shook his head in disgust. “Ross.” He said the word like a curse. “Let me see what I can do.”

“Did you try having Nat kick him in the head?” Clint asked while Phil drew out his phone. Phil managed to simultaneously pull up a contact and give the back of Clint’s head a love tap at the comment.

“I’m just saying,” Clint said. “It worked for me.”

“We need to get rid of the triggers,” Steve said, his voice low, as if he was speaking to himself.

Phil rose to his feet and took a few steps away from the table, but not so far that they couldn’t hear his end of the conversation.

“Good morning, General Talbot,” Phil said pleasantly. “How’s the clean-up of the HYDRA bases going?”

Phil nodded in response to whatever Talbot said to that. “My agents inform me that you haven’t found anything that would help us with our infestation problem, yet.”

As Talbot spoke, Phil’s face took on the purposely blank expression that Clint knew from experience meant that he knew something you didn’t know he knew, and most likely, didn’t want him to know. “What about the files from the facility in Siberia?”

Phil looked disappointed in whatever it was that Talbot said next. “Glenn,” he said in a deceptively soft voice. “I have Google alerts set in fifty different languages on Captain America.”

Sam smirked at Steve, who shifted uncomfortably.

“Not to mention being the Director of SHIELD. Did you really think I wouldn’t hear about the Accords, or Berlin? Or the bunker in Siberia?”

Phil waited a beat, then interrupted whatever General Talbot was saying. “I want access to everything you found. Every file box, the cryostasis chambers, and the bodies. All of it.”

A few seconds later, Phil disconnected. “He’s sending the coordinates. We’ll send a team . . . Not you,” Phil said when Steve opened his mouth to insist he be on that team. “Talbot would be duty bound to arrest you the moment he set eyes on you. All of you,” Phil added to emphasize the point.

“Agent May will accompany Agents Fitz and Simmons.” Phil glanced at May and she nodded her acknowledgment of the order. Clint couldn’t tell from her expression whether she was annoyed with the assignment or not.

“So, General Talbot,” Sam said.

Phil raised an eyebrow, but spoke as if Sam had asked an actual question. “General Talbot is head of the ATCU. The Advanced Threat Containment Unit,” he explained.

“And you just happen to have him on speed dial,” Sam said. “And have something on him big enough that would force him to give you access to all the material from the bunker. That’s not suspicious at all.”

“Well, technically, I’m his boss,” Phil said modestly. “President Ellis can’t publically acknowledge the existence of SHIELD, so the ATCU is the face of SHIELD right now and I have to run things from the shadows. A necessary evil, thanks to HYDRA,” Phil said when Steve frowned. “And easier for the President to disavow us if our existence comes to light, or if we become an embarrassment.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Steve demanded.

“No,” Phil said. “But without the resources of SHIELD, I’m just a guy with good intentions and a robotic hand.” Phil held up said hand. “Sometimes you have to play the hand you’re dealt. No pun intended.”

“Peggy Carter founded SHIELD to _be_ the shield,” Phil went on. “To protect people from things they didn’t even know they needed protecting from. HYDRA tried to ruin that, to drag SHIELD through the mud. But for some of us, SHIELD still stands for something. Something good. Something important.”

“Also.” Phil’s voice softened. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Steve said, startled. As if in everything that had happened after the funeral, he’d forgotten about Peggy’s death.

Phil turned to May. “What’s our ETA?”

May didn’t even have to check. “Eight minutes.”

“We’ll be at our base soon. You can all have a shower and get some food, some rest. I’ll be sending May out with Fitz and Simmons as soon as I’ve briefed them. Captain Rogers, you can be present for that if you’d like, tell them exactly what they should be looking for.”

“Yes,” Steve said, his shoulders straightening now that he had a purpose, a concrete way to help Bucky, even if it was just offering up what little information he had.

Eight minutes later, Zephyr set down at the Playground. An agent was assigned to show Scott and Wanda (Sam refused to leave Steve’s side) the common areas, and then to guest quarters where they could freshen up. May went off to get Fitz and Simmons.

Clint fell into step with Phil as he headed for his office. He noticed the recent repairs and the remaining damage to the bay. “What happened here?” Clint asked.

“Daisy really wanted to leave,” Phil said, his voice clipped. “And she really didn’t want us following her.”

Clint didn’t ask any further questions; he’d find out the full story soon enough. A few moments after they reached Phil’s office, May escorted Fitz and Simmons into the room.

Simmons’ eyes lit up when she saw Clint. “Agent Barton! You’re alright!”

Simmons gave Clint a hug that he happily returned. “Clint,” he reminded her.

“Clint,” Simmons corrected with a sheepish smile.

“Barton,” Fitz said, extending his hand. “It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back,” Clint said, taking Fitz’s hand.

“Agent Barton?” Steve said. “I thought you retired.”

“From the Avengers,” Clint said. “Though I’m not technically an agent, just a civilian consultant. It’s the only way I get to see my husband.”

“Husband,” Sam repeated, as if he was being bombarded with too much new information at once.

“Speaking of which.” Clint reached into his pocket and withdrew a small brown coin envelope. “We liberated our personal effects on the way out. My bow. Sam’s bird costume.”

Sam gave a disgruntled sound that made Clint grin.

“And this.” Clint tipped the envelope and a chain slid out into his palm. Clint dropped the envelope on Phil’s desk and put the chain over his head. He kissed the grey tungsten band that hung on the chain before tucking it beneath his shirt.

Everyone was staring at him with expressions ranging from boredom (May) to surprise (Sam) to the ‘aww!’ of having just seen a pair of adorable puppies (Fitz and Simmons) to wistful (Steve). But it was Phil’s expression of love mixed with exasperated amusement that hit Clint right in the gut.

“Why don’t we get on with the briefing?” May said, interrupting the moment.

Everyone moved as if they’d been in a daze. Phil cleared his throat. “You’re aware of the Winter Soldier program,” he said to Fitz and Simmons.

“Of course!” Simmons said, then glanced at Steve and visibly lost some of her excitement.

“Short version. Sergeant Barnes had been out of cryostasis for two years, regaining memories and managing to stay off everyone’s radar, but someone was able to trigger the Winter Soldier using a code,” Phil said.

“Had been?” Fitz said.

“Bucky voluntarily went back into cryostasis until we can figure out how to deprogram him,” Steve said. “He doesn’t want to hurt anybody again,” he added softly.

Simmons’ eyes went wide and she looked stricken.

“Okay,” Fitz said. “How exactly are we supposed to deprogram him?”

“There was a HYDRA facility in Siberia, a bunker where they kept the Winter Soldiers,” Phil explained.

“Excuse me,” Simmons said. “Soldiers? As in, more than one?”

“Yes. The Russians used a form of the super soldier serum stolen from Howard Stark to create more of their Winter Soldiers,” Steve said. “They’re all dead now, except for Bucky.”

Phil went on with his explanation. “The bunker was full of files, cryostasis chambers, and the bodies of the dead soldiers. Thanks to Ross, General Talbot has access to it all now. You two are going to look it all over, see if there’s any information on how to deprogram a Winter Soldier,” Phil told them.

“You can start with this,” Steve said as he drew a book with a red cover and an embossed star out of the backpack he’d taken to carrying with him. “Zemo used the information in here to trigger the Winter Soldier. I read through it hoping to find something that would help us deprogram Bucky.” From his tone it was evident that he’d been unsuccessful. “Maybe you’ll have better luck.”

“Alright.” Simmons cradled the book gently, careful to let Steve give it up when he was ready, rather than just taking it from him.

“Go pack,” Phil said. “I don’t know how long you’ll be gone.”

After Fitz and Simmons left, Phil turned to May. “You’ll keep me informed.”

“Of course,” May said, and then left, presumably to do her own packing.

The four of them stood kind of awkwardly after they’d been left alone.

“Clint can show you to your rooms,” Phil offered the other two.

“I need to do something,” Steve said, the muscles in his arms bunching as he clenched his hand around the strap of the backpack.

“You can’t do this,” Phil said. “You need to trust us to help you, to help Sergeant Barnes. Shower, rest, eat, and then make a plan with your team.”

Steve raised his head and looked at Phil, a little lost, a lot determined, and nodded. “Thank you.”

When Steve and Sam stepped into the corridor, May was waiting. “I’ll take them,” she said. She gave Clint a look that said ‘if you thank me for this, I’ll kill you.’

“Agent May,” Phil said before she left. “I’ll be in the bay to see you off.”

May nodded, and then said, “Follow me.”

Steve and Sam, good soldiers both, followed May.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Clint abandoned his relaxed pose and moved in on Phil. When Phil’s eyebrows went up, Clint said, “Do I need to remind you that I’ve been in prison?”

“You were locked up for barely a week before your break out.”

“Six days,” Clint said. “Without a conjugal visit.”

The corners of Phil’s lips quirked. “As I told you before, I was a little busy.”

“Saving the world comes before sex, check,” Clint said. He touched Phil’s face, then pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. “I’m going to take you up on that shower, and then, if you’ve got the ingredients on hand, maybe I’ll make that stew you like.”

For a moment Phil’s face showed all the emotions he was feeling, and then it cleared and Director Coulson’s mask was firmly back in place. “I may have sent Agent Carrellson on a food run,” he admitted.

Clint slid his hand down Phil’s neck and chest, Phil’s cotton shirt soft against his palm, warmed from the heat of his skin. He stopped when his hand rested over the ring Phil now wore on a matching chain because it hadn’t fit on the prototype replacement hand Fitz had made for him. Clint let the feel of it brand his palm, and then he stepped back and headed for the door. Phil called his name when Clint’s hand was on the handle. He looked back over his shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

Clint smiled. “I know.”

~*~

Clint was in the galley when Steve poked his head in. His hair was still damp, so he must’ve taken advantage of the offer to shower, as well.

“You looking for Sam?” Clint said as he looked over the ingredients he’d found in the walk-in cooler.

Steve shook his head. “Just exploring.”

“Still looking for something to do?”

“What did you have in mind?” Steve said warily.

Which is how Steve ended up peeling and dicing carrots while Clint floured and browned the chunks of stew meat. They worked in companionable silence for a while before Clint broke it. “I know you still have reservations about SHIELD.”

Steve snorted, then looked embarrassed about it. “Don’t you?”

“I’d trust Coulson with my life. Hell, I _have_ trusted him with my life. If you believe anything, believe that he’ll do the right thing. If not just because it’s the right thing, then because he’s the biggest Captain America nerd I know.”

Steve blushed at the reminder. “All that, it was just . . . an ideal. It wasn’t really me.”

“It was an ideal that Phil Coulson grew up wanting to emulate,” Clint said. “He’s got a t-shirt that says ‘WWCAD?’.”

Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“What Would Captain America Do,” Clint translated, and watched the flush creep up Steve’s neck.

“I don’t always make the right choices,” Steve said.

Clint thought about Grant Ward, left for dead on another planet only to return somehow to wreak more havoc. “Yeah.” He pointed his fork at Steve. “If you’re done with the carrots you can start on the potatoes.”

It was calming to put the stew together. After he had two cast iron pots in the ovens, Clint got out frozen loaves of bread and put them in another warm oven to thaw and rise.

The others trickled in, either looking for Steve or following their noses. They sat around the island and talked in low voices. When the conversation died down, Clint threw out something like, “How about those Dodgers,” that got them going again.

Steve was quiet, though. His hands folded on the island, his eyes downcast. Wanda laid her hand over Steve’s. He raised his eyes and gave her a weak smile.

“What are you thinking about?” Wanda said.

“That this is all my fault,” Steve said.

“How do you figure that?” Sam said before Clint could.

“Lagos,” Steve said. “I got distracted. It gave Rumlow the opportunity to use that suicide vest.”

“That doesn’t sound like you,” Clint said, keeping his tone neutral.

Steve huffed a humorless laugh. “It may surprise people to know that I’ve got some weak spots.”

Clint thought about Phil and Natasha. “We’ve all got weak spots,” he said.

Steve shook his head as if that didn’t apply to him. Or shouldn’t.

“We’re all still human,” Scott observed.

“I’ve got to be better than that,” Steve said. “If I don’t want to be bound by the Accords, I _need_ to be better. I can’t get distracted in the middle of a fight, I can’t . . . .”

“Make a mistake?” Wanda said. “What about me? I’m the one who couldn’t contain that explosion. It’s my fault all those people were hurt and killed.”

Steve looked gutted. Like he hadn’t thought his self-flagellation would spatter out onto anyone else.

“What about any of us?” Sam said. “None of us are perfect, and if that’s the standard, we might as well all quit right now.”

Steve shook his head. “No.”

“You told me that we couldn’t save everyone,” Wanda said. “But we still have to try or nobody gets saved.”

“You didn’t let my part in taking down the helicarrier stop you from trusting me to help with the Chittauri,” Clint put in.

“You’d been brainwashed by Loki,” Steve said.

“What’s the alternative?” Wanda said, and Clint felt a surge of pride in her at that moment.

“We could retire,” Sam said. “On an island somewhere.”

“Let the megalomaniacs take over the world,” Scott added.

Steve sighed. “I’m not suggesting that we just stand back and do nothing.”

“Just that we beat ourselves up when we inevitably fail to save everyone,” Clint said. “Or is that just you?”

“We _can’t_ always save everyone,” Steve said. “I _know_ that.” He looked at Wanda when he said it. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Nobody likes it,” Clint said a little sharply. Sometimes the memory of Phil’s death hit him all over again and even though he knew that Phil was alive now, the sharp ache of loss was like a knife in his chest. “But you don’t crawl in a hole and cover your head.”

Clint crossed his fingers and hoped the universe didn’t strike him down for his hypocrisy.

“That’s not what I’m suggesting,” Steve said again.

“No, you just want to sit here and mope, take the blame for everything onto those broad shoulders,” Clint said. “That ain’t your job, pal.”

“He told me that Bucky remembered me!” Steve shouted. Realizing that he’d raised his voice, Steve tried to shrink in his chair. He looked at Sam, his face swirling with emotion. “That day on the bridge. Before they wiped him and sent him out to kill me again,” Steve said with a huff of air at the irony. “And I just froze.”

“Hey, we get it,” Clint said.

Scott raised his hand.

“Shut up,” Clint said, then turned back to Steve. “We’ll help you get your boyfriend back.”

Steve’s eyes went wide and color rose in his cheeks. “Bucky isn’t my . . . !”

Sam snorted. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m not . . . he doesn’t . . . .” Steve shook his head. “It’s kind of selfish, doing all this just to save one person.”

“You’re allowed to be selfish,” Wanda said. “Don’t you think that if there was a way to bring Pietro back, I’d do everything in my power to make it happen?”

Clint set a comforting hand on Wanda’s shoulder. She reached up and touched her fingers to the back of his hand, and he squeezed. He took a moment to remember the pain in the ass who’d given his life to save Clint, who he didn’t even like, and a couple of kids he didn’t even know.

“Riley,” Sam said softly.

“Hope’s mom,” Scott said.

Everyone glanced expectantly at Clint. He winced. “Sorry, I got my husband back, which is why I want to help you,” he said to Steve. “So stop whining and start thinking. Rah rah.”

Phil stopped in the doorway. “If Clint’s giving a rallying speech, things must be dire.”

“Funny,” Clint said. He gave Wanda’s shoulder a final squeeze before letting go and moving towards Phil. “Is there a ‘no hugging’ rule for the mess, too?”

Clint’s question caught Phil off guard and Clint got close enough to put his arms around him for a quick squeeze before he could answer. He figured Phil wouldn’t be too upset, since they were with friends, but he didn’t push his luck with a long hug, or by trying for a kiss. Clint released Phil, then turned back to the others and waggled his eyebrows.

“Wait,” Sam said. “*This* is your husband?”

“He bagged the Director of SHIELD,” Scott said. “Awesome.”

“Well, to be fair, he wasn’t the Director when I bagged him,” Clint said. “But isn’t anyone going to tell Phil how awesome it is that he bagged the World’s Greatest Marksman?”

“We’re going to send him a group condolence card,” Steve said.

“Ouch!” Clint said, bringing a hand dramatically to his chest. “But it’s good to see that someone’s got their sense of humor back. Speaking of.” Clint tilted his head in Phil’s direction. “Did you have a reason to find us, or were you drawn by the smell of the stew?”

“Oh,” Phil said, chagrined that he’d forgotten his original purpose. “I wanted to let Captain Rogers know that I’ve heard from Agent May. They’ve arrived at the coordinates General Talbot provided.”

“You’re not going to tell me where, are you?” Steve said.

“Not a chance,” Phil said firmly, color rising in his cheeks at having to anything to Captain America. To cover, he turned to Clint. “But the stew does smell delicious.”

Clint gave Phil a pleased smile. “It needs to cook a while longer. Do you have time to talk?”

Clint watched Phil physically hold back the automatic denial that sprang to his lips. “Yes,” Phil said instead. “I need to make a stop first, though.”

Clint left a note that warned everyone not to touch the stew until he said it was ready, told the others that there were video games in the lounge, and then kept pace with Phil down the corridor as he walked as if he was headed to the gallows. Phil walked past a sign that said ‘Quarantine,’ his jaw clenched. He made a gesture and Clint stayed back out of sight when Phil walked up to an observation window.

Phil stood silent for a moment and just looked, then pressed the intercom button. “Lincoln, how do you feel?”

Lincoln? Clint thought.

A moment later, Lincoln’s voice came over the intercom from inside the containment room. “What are you doing to rescue Daisy?”

“Why don’t you answer my question first,” Phil said with deceptive calmness.

“I feel fine!” Lincoln said. “Now . . . .”

“We’re working on it,” Phil said, ignoring Lincoln’s outburst. “Since the anti-toxin didn’t work . . . .” Phil’s jaw clenched. “We’ll need to figure out another way to get her away from HIVE without her hurting another member of our team.”

“You know Daisy wouldn’t do that,” Lincoln said, sounding like he’d been hit in the gut.

“That’s the point, isn’t it? She’s not Daisy right now,” Phil said.

“I need to get out of here,” Lincoln said. “I need to do something!”

“You’ve already done enough,” Phil said, his voice hard.

“I had to try,” Lincoln said obstinately.

“What you needed to do was follow orders,” Phil said.

“How long are you going to keep me locked up in here?” Lincoln demanded.

“Until your immune system recovers,” Phil said. “There is one thing to look forward to. Clint’s here, and he made stew. He makes a very good stew.”

Phil flicked off the intercom and Clint fell into step with him when he walked away. He could tell by the set of Phil’s jaw that he was not happy. The agents they passed on the way back to Phil’s office nodded a hello, but kept as far away from them as the corridor would allow.

“What the hell was that all about?” Clint said as soon as the office door was closed behind them.

Phil grabbed a stress ball off the desk and squeezed it until it popped with a loud noise that sounded like a gunshot. Phil opened his hand and looked at what was left of the ball in surprise.

“Wrong hand?” Clint guessed.

Phil threw the remains of the stress ball at Clint. Even with his robo-hand they fell short, fluttering to the floor like extra large pieces of confetti.

“Spill,” Clint said.

Phil sighed. “I knew that killing Ward would come back to haunt me,” he said. “But not like this. The entity on that planet, it took over his body, and somehow made it back through the portal before it closed and Mack blew it up.”

“So that thing is wearing Ward’s body?”

“It calls itself HIVE. It’s an Inhuman. The first Inhuman. And the kicker is that it can infect other Inhumans and control them.”

“Daisy?” Clint guessed.

Phil’s jaw clenched.

“I’m sorry,” Clint said, then, “Who’d she hurt?”

“Mack,” Phil said. “Pretty badly.”

Clint could tell that Phil didn’t want to talk about it, so he brought the topic back to HIVE. “So, this thing, HIVE, can control Inhumans. Is that its plan, then? Infect all the Inhumans and take over the world?”

“Worse. It wants to turn everyone Inhuman, and _then_ control them and take over the world.”

“How?” Clint said. “And why? I mean, isn’t the fish oil already doing that for it?”

“Apparently not fast enough,” Phil said. “According to Mack and May, who got the information from two different sources, it wants to recreate the experiment that created it. Alter everyone’s DNA, and then turn them Inhuman. When she left, Daisy stole a Kree artifact, an orb, and some Terragin crystals. Plus, it’s kidnapped Dr. Holden Radcliffe.”

“The geneticist slash transhumanism guy?” Clint said.

Phil nodded. “There’s more.”

“That’s not enough?”

“HIVE has somehow obtained access to two Kree.”

Clint felt as if he’d had the breath knocked out of him. “What? Are you sure?”

“The team saw their satellite crash into the town, and Mack saw the body of one. Just before Daisy . . . .” Phil broke off. “They were draining it of blood. He destroyed the body with a splinter bomb, but they still have access to the second Kree.”

“Jesus.” Clint rubbed his hands over the top of his head, then scrubbed his face. “Okay. Why do they always want to take over the world?”

That comment earned him a look of acknowledgment, but Phil was still thinking about Daisy, Clint could tell. Which reminded him. “What’s going on with Lincoln?”

“Lincoln,” Phil repeated, making the name sound like a curse.

Clint had to bite back a grin at Phil’s tone.

“Lincoln disobeyed a direct order. Fitz and Simmons were working on a cure for the infection. Based on their best guess about how it worked and the chances of success, I . . . .”

“You nixed it,” Clint finished.

Phil nodded.

“That must have been hard.” Clint knew that Daisy was the closest thing Phil had to a daughter. But Lincoln was in love with her. “Lincoln tested it anyway,” Clint guessed.

Phil clenched his jaw before speaking. “Yes. He injected himself with the cure. It devastated his immune system, which is why he’s in quarantine. All for nothing, because it didn’t work when it was tested on the infection.”

“I’m sorry,” Clint said again.

Phil gestured with his hand. “It’s not your fault.”

“I know, but I’m still sorry. I know how much you care about Daisy.”

“Yes,” Phil said, his voice thick. “But this is bigger than Daisy. Or me. We need to take down HIVE before he finishes whatever it is he’s got Dr. Radcliffe working on. And I can’t use any Inhumans to do it because he could infect them and turn them against us.”

“What about a group of ex-Avengers?” Clint said, the idea coming to him in a flash of brilliance.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Phil said. “Steve Rogers just broke you out of a floating prison; you’re all wanted by the authorities.”

“Aren’t you part of ‘the authorities’?” Clint said.

Phil snorted. “I’m wanted almost as much as you are by the authorities.”

“Steve needs something to do while he’s waiting to see if Fitz and Simmons find anything. It’s the least you can do for your hero since he broke your husband out of the gulag.”

Phil rolled his eyes. “Childhood hero.”

“Yeah, right.” Clint changed the subject. “What are you doing right now?”

Phil looked surprised at the question.

“Besides moping.”

“I’m not moping,” Phil said.

“And beating yourself up.”

Phil didn’t deny that, just glared at Clint. “I am the Director of SHIELD,” he said.

“So nothing?”

The glare intensified.

“Are you planning any missions?” Clint clarified.

“Right now I’ve got people analyzing data and gathering intel,” Phil said.

“So all you’d be doing is looking over their shoulder,” Clint said. “Great! Then you’ve got time to spar with me.”

“I’m not going to spar with you,” Phil said.

“I’ll even let you use your fancy new hand.”

“You couldn’t take me before the hand.”

“Nat’s taught me some new moves.”

Phil looked intrigued, but Clint could tell it still wasn’t enough. So he flapped his arms and made ‘bwak, bwak’ noises.

“Nor will I be swayed by childish antics.”

“Then how about adult antics.” Clint leaned his ass against the edge of Phil’s desk and rubbed his hand over the cool, smooth wood. “Winner gets to choose where and how we have sex.”

Phil’s eyes dilated and his nostrils flared. “We’re not having sex on my desk.”

Clint pushed off the desk and prowled over to Phil. He touched the edge of collarbone visible in the open ‘V’ of Phil’s collar. Phil was usually so buttoned up at work, so the glimpse of skin that Clint usually only got to see when they were naked was arousing.

“Then I guess you’d better win.”

Phil wasn’t unaffected, but he merely raised an eyebrow.

“Come on,” Clint said. “Seriously. You can’t deny that you need a little release.”

Phil’s eyebrow climbed higher.

“You know what I meant.”

“I have a million things to do,” Phil said, but as denials went, it was pretty weak.

“No, you’re waiting while other people do a million things so you can go do your thing.”

“Are you saying I’m not good at waiting?” Phil said dangerously.

“You’re excellent at waiting.” They’d once waited 72 hours in the same small nest for a mark to appear and the only complaint Phil made was about Clint not having room to stretch in case his extremities fell asleep. “Except when someone you care about is in danger.”

Clint remembered the open relief in Phil’s eyes when they’d pulled Clint out of a cell after he’d been tortured for ten hours. The way he’d only let his hands shake after he’d killed three of Clint’s captors (Nat took care of the rest), and checked Clint’s injuries. And that had been before they’d gotten together.

“You’re not doing Daisy a disservice by taking a break to get your head back in the game,” Clint said.

Phil sighed. “I hate you.”

Clint knew capitulation when he heard it. He slid his hand to the juncture of Phil’s shoulder and neck, squeezed. He manfully ignored the soft moan and the way Phil leaned into the touch. Phil’s shoulders were tight and he needed more than a few minutes on the mat, but Clint had learned to only fight the battles he knew he could win.

“When did you get so logical?” Phil said, pretending he hadn’t given away how tense he was over the situation with Daisy and HIVE.

Clint’s eyes danced and he bit back a grin.

Phil rolled his own eyes. “Don’t say it rubbed off on you.”

Clint’s grin broke out. “Clearly I don’t have to.”

~*~

Steve was alone in the gym when Clint and Phil arrived. He was at the punching bag, his damp hair and t-shirt, as well as the bag leaking sand in the corner, testimony to how long and hard he’d been at it. Steve paused when he saw them enter. “Were you looking for me?” he asked hopefully.

“No, sorry,” Clint said. “We’re going to use the mats.”

Steve nodded, his expression shuttering.

“Don’t let us interrupt you,” Phil said, and Clint was probably the only person (aside from Nat or Fury) who could’ve heard the nerves in his voice at the idea of Captain America, his ‘childhood’ hero, seeing him spar.

Steve nodded at Clint, his gaze traveling over him. If he noticed that Clint had made another clothing change, this time into loose clothes suitable for sparring, he didn’t say anything about it. Steve turned back to the bag and Clint turned to Phil, who was stretching.

Clint joined Phil on the mats and did his own stretches. “I didn’t stretch before our last fight at the airport, and I think I pulled something.”

“Hope it wasn’t a groin muscle,” Phil said.

Clint grinned at Phil, impressed with the comeback.

“Don’t hold back,” Clint said as he bounced in place a few times and punched the air. “I want to see what that hand can do.”

Phil’s eyebrow climbed, and Clint gave him points for the silent innuendo.

“I won’t,” Phil said. “There’s a lot riding on this.”

Clint choked at the emphasis Phil placed on ‘riding’. He had to recover quickly, because Phil used the moment of distraction to lash out with his left hand. Clint blocked the punch and swore. The new hand might look like flesh, but it was just a coating over metal and electronics, and it felt like getting hit with a lead pipe. Note to self, Clint thought, don’t do that again.

Clint went on the offensive, concentrating on Phil’s right so he could stay away from the cybernetic hand. Phil was a little bit rusty – dying, and then becoming Director of SHIELD left little time for sparring – but his new hand gave him an advantage he wasn’t afraid to use. Clint got shocked once, and choked when Phil closed the fingers of the hand around his throat. Clint automatically reached for the trigger point in Phil’s wrist that would force him to release his grip. He swore when he realized his mistake and kicked out, coming awfully close to Phil’s groin.

Phil’s grip loosened, but Clint was sure it was more to keep sparring than because Clint had forced him to release his throat. Clint didn’t care why Phil did it, only that he had. Clint grabbed Phil’s arm and tossed him over his shoulder. Instead of wasting time feeling his throat, which was sure to bruise, Clint went after Phil, aiming a flurry of kicks at his torso. Phil blocked them, then grabbed Clint’s foot and tossed him onto his ass so he could roll to his feet.

Clint rebounded as soon as his hands hit the mat and he caught Phil before he’d fully regained his feet. Phil gave Clint an impressed look when Clint had him pinned to the mat. Phil jabbed his fingers into Clint’s side. Clint braced himself for another shock, and instead got ticked.

“You fucking cheater,” Clint ground out as he jerked and lost his hold on Phil.

“All’s fair,” Phil panted as he twisted in Clint’s hold.

Clint almost lost him, but managed to tighten his grip just as Phil slipped away. Clint had Phil’s arms behind his back when Phil did something with his wrist, and then wiggled out of his grip, leaving Clint holding Phil’s now-detached hand.

“What the hell?” Clint said. He was slow to react, and that allowed Phil to get away from him completely.

Clint tossed the hand away, but he couldn’t help looking at it over his shoulder. “That thing’s not going to crawl back over here, is it?”

Phil gave Clint a scary smile. “I guess you’re going to have to find out.”

While Clint was trying to figure out if Phil was serious or not (Fitz had designed the hand, after all), Phil charged him. The breath exploded out of Clint when he hit the mat with all of Phil’s weight on top of him. Phil grabbed Clint’s hand, pinned his legs with his own, and pressed the stump of his arm against Clint’s throat.

Clint couldn’t breathe, but at least this time it was flesh and blood arm cutting off his airway, so when Clint found the nerve in Phil’s elbow, the pressure was relieved enough that he could fight back. Phil had him pretty well pinned, but Clint had more upper body strength than most people, Super Soldiers, Norse gods of thunder, and Iron Man suits excluded. Clint managed to throw Phil off of him, but he didn’t follow up on the move, just remained on his back and gasped for air. Maybe he was a little bit rusty, too. Spending too much time on the farm, and, aside from Nat’s visits, not enough time training.

Phil must have sensed that Clint was done, because he didn’t move from where he’d landed when Clint threw him off, other than to shift to get more comfortable. Clint turned his head and looked at Phil, who was staring up at the ceiling, but turned his head when he felt Clint’s eyes on him. Clint grinned because, man, that had been fun. Phil grinned back, and then they both looked back over their heads when someone began clapping. It wasn’t Steve, who jerked his gaze guiltily away from Phil’s cyber hand when he realized they were looking at him. Sam, along with Wanda and Scott, stood in the doorway, and he was the source of the clapping.

“I didn’t know Barton could move like that,” Sam said. “He’s always up high and out of the fighting.”

“Says the guy whose bird costume does all the work,” Clint bantered back as he rolled to his knees.

“You are never going to let that go, are you?”

“Outlook not so good,” Clint said as he rose to his feet. “What’s going on?”

“Wanda was beating the pants off Scott at Mario Cart . . . .”

“Me?” Scott said, surprised.

“. . . so we decided to go looking for Cap, here.”

“Sam’s getting hungry,” Wanda said.

“Because he eats like a bird,” Clint said.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“It is decidedly so,” Clint said.

“Did you get a head injury we don’t know about?” Scott said, sounding actually worried rather than sarcastic.

“Haven’t you guys ever heard of a Magic 8-Ball?”

“What’s that?” Wanda said.

“Heard of it, but never played with one,” Sam said, giving Clint a judgmental look.

“Or memorized the answers,” Scott said.

“You guys don’t know what you’re missing,” Clint said. He turned to Phil in time to see Steve holding Phil’s cyber hand in his own and very gently offering it to Phil.

“Bucky lost his arm in Siberia,” Steve said softly as Phil took the appendage.

“This one has some nifty upgrades, but it’s not a weapon,” Phil said apologetically as he reattached it to his own arm.

“Bucky doesn’t want that,” Steve said. “He doesn’t want to be a weapon.”

Phil nodded in understanding. “I’m sure Fitz would be thrilled to design an arm for Sergeant Barnes,” he said.

Steve’s smile was sad. “Thanks. I’m not sure it’ll matter if we can’t find a way to deprogram him.”

Clint interrupted before Steve could get too maudlin. “We’re headed to the mess. Sam’s hungry gain.”

“I’ll be there shortly,” Phil said.

Clint nodded, then headed for the kitchen. The others, sans Phil, followed him like a gaggle of hungry ducklings. Clint checked the stew, then the bread. The stew smelled delicious when he lifted one of the covers to take a taste. Deciding that it had simmered long enough, and that the bread has risen nicely, Clint set the pots on top of the stove and transferred the loaves from the warm oven to the already heated oven. He set the timer and handed it to Steve.

“Fifteen minutes. I’m gonna go take a shower while the bread bakes. They should be just nicely browned on top.”

As Clint suspected, Phil had already showered and was dressing in clean clothes by the time he reached the quarters they shared when Clint was on base. “I knew I should’ve hurried,” he said.

Phil gave Clint a look, but didn’t respond. Clint walked over to him and took the ends of the tie out of his hands.

“I can tie my own tie,” Phil said acerbically, as if remembering that there was a time he couldn’t.

“I know,” Clint said. “I just like doing it.”

“Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Clint said as he expertly knotted the tie, one he’d given Phil for their third anniversary, and which Phil had liberated from the farm house on one of his recent, if infrequent, visits. He wasn’t surprised that Phil had eschewed his more casual attire of jeans for the suit, as if an appearance of being all buttoned up would help him feel more in control of the situation he found himself in.

“As much as I love the way your ass looks in jeans, I kind of miss seeing you in suits,” Clint said.

As he’d hoped, Phil’s blush indicated that his mind had gone to how much Clint had liked getting him _out_ of his suits. “You’re incorrigible,” Phil said.

“You love me anyway,” Clint said, smoothing his hand down Phil’s chest as if the tie needed the additional pressing. If Phil felt the additional pressure when Clint’s palm slid over the hidden ring, he didn’t mention it.

“Yes,” Phil said simply, earning a smile from Clint.

Clint helped Phil into his suit jacket and then leaned in for a lingering kiss.

“I’m going to speak to Steve, Captain Rogers, about HIVE,” Phil said.

Clint nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Phil’s eyes narrowed. “It was your idea.”

“And it was a good one.”

“Take your shower, Clint,” Phil said dryly. “Unless you only came down here in hopes of catching me naked.”

“One doesn’t preclude the other,” Clint said. He stepped back and stripped his t-shirt off over his head, flexing his muscles as he did so.

Phil gave Clint a knowing look, but that didn’t stop his gaze from drifting down over his bared skin. “Like I said, incorrigible,” Phil said, as if he hadn’t been affected.

Clint smirked and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his sweats. He took his time pushing them down over his hips. Phil stared until he caught himself doing it. He glared at Clint, and then turned on his heel and left the room, the door clicking shut with a maddening finality.

Clint grinned at the door, pleased that he could still get under Phil’s skin, then gave his groin an apologetic look.

~*~

When Clint returned to the kitchen, the bread was cooling on racks and a couple dozen bowls and bread plates, cups, utensils, and butter were sitting on the island.

“I didn’t know how many to set out,” Wanda said.

Clint nodded. “Thanks.” He washed his hands, then pulled on a pair of gloves so he could slice the bread. He dropped the first loaf into a basket and set it on the island. “Dig in before the others get here,” Clint said, then pressed a button that rang the dinner bell.

Agents started trickling in, and Clint heard more than one person make happy note of his return. He’d learned that the way to an agent’s heart was through their stomach. With three of the five loaves sliced, Clint got a bowl of stew and joined the others at the table they’d claimed.

Phil and Steve weren’t the last ones through the door, but near to it. Clint got up to slice another loaf and shared a look with Phil, who looked like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders now that he’d found a possible solution to one of the problems facing him. And Steve wore the confident resolve Clint was used to seeing, rather than the lost puppy expression he’d been wearing.

“What’s going on?” Sam said when they were all seated at the table.

Clint apparently wasn’t the only one to notice the change in Steve.

“Director Coulson has requested our assistance on a mission,” Steve said.

“Are we giving it?” Sam said.

“That will be for you to decide after I’ve briefed you all,” Phil said.

“But you’ve already made up your mind,” Sam said to Steve.

Steve looked almost guilty. “Yes, but you all get to make your own decision once you’ve heard what Director Coulson has to say.”

“I’ve already made my decision, too,” Clint said. “In case anyone cares.”

Sam shook his head. “I’m in if Steve’s in. Can’t let him go off on his own with only Barton for back-up.”

“Hey,” Clint said.

“I’m in if Clint’s in,” Wanda said.

Clint looked up in surprise. Wanda held his gaze and all he saw in her eyes was determination. He inclined his head in acknowledgment.

“Is it illegal?” Scott said.

“The mission itself isn’t illegal,” Phil said. “But working with SHIELD won’t give you any sort of immunity. If you get caught you’ll be arrested, and SHIELD will most likely be disavowed and made the subject of a manhunt. Again. Oh, and if we fail, an evil entity will take over the world.”

“So no pressure, then,” Scott said.

Phil left first to go do Director-things. As soon as he was gone, Sam said, “So, you two both seem to know what’s going on. Care to fill in the rest of us?”

“It would probably be better if Director Coulson did that,” Steve said diplomatically.

“We’ve already agreed to help,” Wanda pointed out.

So Clint and Steve filled them in.

“You should know,” Clint added, “that this is personal for Coulson. And for SHIELD.”

When they were done eating, Steve offered to do the dishes, since Clint had prepped the meal.

“You helped,” Clint said. “Besides, there’s a dishwasher. With all of us helping, it’ll go quick.”

Clint noticed that several agents (male and female alike) took their time finishing up. The temptation of seeing Steve Rogers with his hands in a sinkful of soapy water too great to resist.

While they worked, Sam said, “How come you call him Coulson?”

“Respect,” Clint said. “He’s still my boss. Technically. I don’t call him Coulson in bed, though, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“We weren’t,” Wanda said emphatically.

“I do call him ‘sir’ sometimes.”

Sam choked on his next breath. “Way too much information, Barton.”

“Do you two have kids?” Wanda asked.

“Me and Phil?” Clint said. “No. Why do you ask?”

“The other day you said something about disappointing your kids, so I was just curious.”

“Oh, yeah,” Clint said, remembering. “I meant the kids in my class. I teach archery at the Y. They were getting ready for a tournament . . . Which I’ve missed by now. But I left them in capable hands, so I’m sure they did well.”

“Get out!” Sam said. “I’m seeing you in a whole new light, Barton. Though some of it I would’ve been glad not knowing.”

~*~

Clint poked his head into Phil’s office and knocked his knuckles against the wooden doorframe. “Hey,” he said when Phil looked up at the sound.

“Hey,” Phil said, setting down the tablet he’d been looking at.

“Are you ready for that briefing now?” Clint said.

“Yes,” Phil said. He’d put on his Director mask, so Clint might be the only one who could discern the nerves beneath it. “Why don’t you gather the others in the . . .”

Clint stepped into the office and the others followed him. “Found ‘em.”

“. . . conference room,” Phil finished, then wryly said, “Why don’t you all come in.”

“Sorry,” Steve said. “”We could . . .”

“No, Captain, please,” Phil said. “Come in. Find a seat. Or a place to stand.”

They arrayed themselves around the office. Clint closed the door and made himself comfortable on a corner of Phil’s desk.

“I’m sure you’ve all seen news reports about the emerging Inhumans,” Phil began. When everyone nodded, he continued. “This is an entity that calls itself HIVE.”

Clint didn’t need to look to know that Phil had put HIVE!Ward’s photo on the big screen behind him. He watched everyone else’s reactions as Phil told them some of what they already knew from Clint and Steve.

“HIVE is currently possessing the dead body of former SHIELD agent Grant Ward, who turned out to be a HYDRA spy.”

“Are you sure he’s dead,” Scott said. “Because he doesn’t look dead.”

“Very sure,” Phil said. “I killed him. Unfortunately, the entity retains all of the memories of its hosts, so HIVE knows a lot about us. The one thing we know about HIVE is that it can infect Inhumans with some sort of parasite. Once that happens, HIVE can control them. Our goal is to stop HIVE before it can do that.

“The woman with him is Daisy, one of our best agents. She is currently infected.”

Phil didn’t let his voice betray him, but Clint could tell that he wasn’t unaffected by Daisy’s status.

“The second thing we know is that HIVE is attempting to recreate the experiment that created it. The end game is apparently to turn everyone Inhuman, and then infect them so that they, we, are under his control. An entire world of Inhumans, all under HIVE’s control.”

Phil paused a moment to let that sink in.

“In addition to the Inhumans HIVE has under its control, there are also 40 very human former HYDRA soldiers to contend with. HIVE’s ability to infect Inhumans means that we can’t use any of the Inhumans on our team. Instead of helping us, they’d be a liability. We’ve already sent one strike team in an attempt to take out HIVE; it failed. We could use some people with special powers on our team to take down HIVE before it succeeds.”

“I know you all said you were in,” Steve said, “but that was before you heard the whole story. I’m not going to hold you to that if you’ve changed your mind.”

Sam, arms crossed over his chest as he’d listened to Phil’s briefing, immediately said, “I’m still in.”

“Me, too,” Wanda said.

Everyone looked at Scott. “What if I don’t go, and I could’ve been the turning point?” Scott said. “If you all lose, I get mind whammied by . . . .” He gestured towards the screen.

“Yeah, but you’d get a really cool superpower before you got mind whammied,” Sam said.

“Or a tail,” Clint said.

Scott gestured towards Clint and nodded as if to say, that would be my luck. His expression changed. “That might be cool actually, but no, I’m still in.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Phil said. Instead of dry sarcasm, Phil’s tone was sincere. Scott gave him a grateful look.

Everyone’s gazes now turned to Clint. “Please,” he said. “Like I’m letting Phil go anywhere without me. Or, you know, you guys.”

Sam smirked, but before he could say anything, Steve went into planning mode. “We need the layout of the place where HIVE is hiding out.”

“We need to know what his abilities are,” Wanda said.

“How many Inhumans it already has under its control,” Sam said. “And what *their* abilities are.”

Clint ducked his head to hide his satisfied smile. Coming here had been more than necessity, it had been fate; Steve needed a mission to take his mind off of Bucky’s predicament, and Phil needed help from people he wouldn’t have thought to ask.

“We’ll need to know Daisy’s weaknesses, as well,” Clint added softly.

“And yours,” Steve added, looking right at Phil. “Daisy will know them, and if this HIVE has Ward’s memories, so will it.”

Phil looked shaken for a moment, either overwhelmed at the offer of help, or at the idea that he could be a liability, as well. It passed almost as quickly as it appeared, and Phil became the unflappable Director Coulson once more.

“We’ve got a map of Union City, it’s an old mining town in southern Wyoming that HIVE purchased with HYDRA’s money, as well as the report of every agent who was on the strike team. And aside from Agent May, every agent who made it back is on base, including Mack in the infirmary.

Phil pulled up the map and reports on the failed strike. While they crowded around the table and started going over them, looking for the best areas of approach to surprise HIVE, Phil was on the phone. A few minutes later a live satellite view of the town came up on the screen.

Sam looked impressed. “How’d you do that?”

“I have my sources,” Phil said mysteriously.

“Maria still has the codes?” Clint guessed.

“My thing sounded cooler,” Phil said.

Clint grinned, and then turned his attention to the screen, and the deployment of HIVE’s defenses. This, working with Phil again, plotting the downfall of another asshole that wanted to take over the world, was like an old familiar ache. It was good while it lasted, but he knew it couldn’t last.

Phil had Mack brought down from the Infirmary and got May on video conference so they could get their input for the initial planning.

“Coulson’s greatest weakness is Daisy herself,” May said, then added, “Just like Mack’s was.”

“Don’t front,” Mack said. “Daisy’s your weakness, too.”

May inclined her head. “And Ward,” she said. “Ward got under all our skin, including Coulson’s.”

May gave Phil a look. Phil nodded his agreement.

“HIVE knows that I killed Ward out of vengeance, not justice. Ward murdered a good woman just because he thought I was in love with her. He wanted me to react without thinking, and I did,” Phil said.

“He clearly didn’t anticipate this outcome,” Sam said dryly.

“I felt responsible for Ward being on my team, for him being in a position to hurt them. He deserved to die, but not like that.”

Everyone was silent at the admission. May broke it. “I want in on this mission, Director.”

“We need to move fast,” Phil said, “before HIVE succeeds in recreating that experiment. Right now they think we’ll still be licking our wounds. They won’t expect us to hit them again so soon. Or to have back-up.” He gave the ex-Avengers a grateful look.

“You promised me,” May said, “that I could kill Ward this time.”

“Wow,” Scott muttered. “You people really don’t like this Ward guy.”

“I don’t remember making that promise,” Phil said. “But I’d give you the opportunity if I could. What you’re doing is important, too. Speaking of, do you have anything new to report?”

May glanced at Steve, then said, “Maybe. Simmons and Fitz are going through the files and pulling out the important information and I’m scanning it in.” May’s expression couldn’t hide how much she felt her skills were being underutilized.

There was a voice in the background, and May relayed the message. “Fitz is going over the cryostasis chambers. There’s a lot of information here, sir. It could take a while.”

“Keep at it,” Phil said, then relented and explained, “I’d send more people, but I don’t want Talbot to know how important this particular cache of information is to us.”

May raised her eyebrows. “You’ve sent your top two scientists and me as protection. You don’t think he’s going to think it’s important?”

“Right now he believes that we want the information to deal with our Inhuman problem,” Phil said. “The longer he thinks that, the better,” he said with finality. “I’d like to speak with Fitz now.”

May looked like she wanted to say something more, but she merely nodded and stepped away from the screen. A moment later Fitz’s face filled it. His eyes were bright, either from excitement or exhaustion. Or both.

“Sir, you should see all of this . . . ! Oh, you’re not alone,” Fitz said when he saw the rest of them, his eyes sliding guiltily away from Steve’s gaze.

“No,” Phil said. “Fitz, about that project you’ve been working on . . . .”

“The cure?”

“No, the other one. Is it ready for field testing?”

Fitz’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “Field . . . what . . . you . . . ?”

Phil waited patiently for Fitz to find the words he needed.

Finally Fitz gathered his thoughts. “It’s a prototype, sir, its range is limited.”

“I understand,” Phil said. “but we need every advantage we can get on this mission.”

“Agent Bartlett was working on it with me. She’ll be able to tell you what it can do,” Fitz said.

“Thank you, Fitz,” Phil said. “You can put May back on.” He turned to the others. “We have a containment room. The walls are covered with a power dampening material. We’ve used it to hold powered individuals until they can control their powers. As well as powered individuals who just wanted to kill us. Fitz has been attempting to create a portable version we can use during a fight with an enhanced person.

“As he said, it’s only a prototype, and it’s never been tested. Despite its limited range, it might be the advantage we need. They won’t expect us to be able to dampen their powers, and without them, most of these people are ordinary. No military training, they aren’t ninjas or assassins, just average Joe’s who we could easily subdue if they don’t have recourse to their powers. Except for Daisy, of course. And HIVE. And Giyera. Agent Bartlett should be able to tell us more.”

Agent Bartlett was brought in. To her credit, she barely blinked when confronted with a group of ex-Avengers in Phil’s office. Not even when her gaze passed over Steve’s biceps. (Though she did do a double-take when she spotted Wanda.)

Clint gave Wanda a raised eyebrow, but she just stared back at him in confusion before turning her attention to Agent Bartlett, who had set the prototype dampening device in the middle of Phil’s desk. Clint frowned. He’d seen the containment room, and this small device didn’t look like it would be able to create the same effect.

Phil asked Bartlett to explain how the device worked, and she started speaking in large, science-y words. The gist of it was that she and Fitz had built a portable ‘room’ using cloaking technology, which they could temporarily ‘coat’ with the dampening material.

Because it was a prototype, the range was limited. A six foot diameter maybe. Bartlett made sure to emphasize the ‘maybe’. And it would only work for 90 seconds at a time before it needed to be shut down for 45 seconds to cool down. It would be stronger near the source of the dampening effect, naturally, and weaker near the perimeter of the cloak.

“That not terribly helpful when you’re talking about powers that can be used at a distance,” Scott pointed out.

“No,” Phil agreed. “So it’s a good thing that we have people on our team who can also work from a distance.”

“The first thing we need to do . . . ,” Mack began.

“Mack,” Phil said.

“I’m going back in,”Mack said, determinedly.

“You’re in no shape to be part of this mission,” Phil pointed out gently.

“Then I’ll stay back in operations,” Mack said, “but I need to be there.”

“We’ll see,” Phil said, which usually meant ‘no way in hell,’ but which Mack took as capitulation, because he nodded and continued.

“The first thing we need to do is take out Giyera. He’s HIVE’s bodyguard. He has the power of telekinesis, he can rip your weapons out of your hands and turn them on you, and has. And as Director Coulson mentioned, he _does_ have military training.”

“Daisy can create tremors. She can shake things apart. Like mountains. And people,” Phil added with a look at Mack.

May said, “James can touch things and make them explode.”

“I’d like to contain the infected Inhumans without harming them,” Phil said.

“The problem with that,” May said, “is that I.C.E.R.s don’t work against them.”

“Against any Inhuman?” Sam said.

“No,” Mack said, “just the infected ones. Something about the parasites targeting the pleasure center of the brain.”

The fact that Mack said that with a straight face earned him points in Clint’s book.

“And HIVE can regenerate,” May said. “Fitz used a flare gun to destroy the previous host body, but we fired a grenade at him and took off part of his shoulder. He just grew it back.”

~*~

By the time Phil called a break, Clint’s brain was dancing in circles as he tried to figure out how they were going to sneak into the town, disable all of the Inhumans in order to get to HIVE, as well as the HYDRA soldiers, and then take out an entity that could regenerate. Clint stood and stretched, and for once he wasn’t trying to get under Phil’s skin with the move.

“I need coffee,” Clint commented. What he really wanted was a couple hours on the range with his bow, but caffeine would have to do.

Bartlett jumped to her feet. “I’ll start a pot.”

“I _can_ make coffee without breaking the machine,” Clint insisted as Bartlett made a quick exit with the prototype device.

“Experience would suggest otherwise,” Phil said dryly. He got an A+ for effort, but he was too tired for it to have the full effect.

After coffee and a snack of whatever they found in the cupboards (Clint toasted two slices of the freshly baked bread that had escaped being devoured at dinner and spread butter and blackberry jam on them), they returned to the conference room to hash out a plan. They were joined by Agents O’Brien, Piper, and Anderson, who’d been on the original strike team, as well as Mack, Bartlett, and May, once again via video conference.

It was after midnight by the time Phil called a break and sent everyone off to get a couple hours of sleep. He remained behind to have a few words with May in private.

Clint caught Bartlett as she was leaving. “Could we adapt the dampening tech to work in an arrow?”

Bartlett’s first reaction was to look at Clint as if he was nuts (he got that a lot, so he didn’t take offense), but then her expression turned thoughtful, intrigued. “Bring me some arrows and let’s see.”

Clint’s eyes found Phil, but he was deep in conversation with May. He made a mental note to let Phil know where he’d gone later and followed Bartlett out of the conference room.

It was 2am by the time Clint reached their quarters. Phil was sitting in bed, suit neatly hung in the closet, a book in his hand, which explained why Clint hadn’t been able to find him after he’d left Bartlett’s lab. Phil raised his eyes from the book when Clint entered. The glasses perched on Phil’s nose, as much as the look of warm welcome, made Clint’s belly do a pleasant roll.

“How’d your meeting with Agent Bartlett go?” Phil asked as he marked his page and set the book aside.

“Promising,” Clint said, by now unsurprised that Phil seemed to be aware of everything.

“How’d your conversation with May go?” Clint said as he closed the door behind him and made sure it was locked.

“Good,” Phil said, but he sounded a bit distracted from the topic because Clint had pulled his t-shirt off over his head.

He did it a little more slowly than if he was just getting ready for bed, because this time he _was_ trying to get a reaction out of Phil, and his efforts paid off. When the material cleared his eyes, Clint caught the tail-end of Phil’s heated gaze raking down his chest and stomach. When Phil’s eyes rose to meet his own, they held both annoyance at Clint and chagrin at being caught.

Clint grinned as he balled up the shirt and tossed it in the direction of the single chair, which wasn’t all that comfortable for lounging despite the ample amount of padding. Phil’s eyes went heavy and dark as Clint placed one knee on the mattress.

“Leave them,” Clint said, his voice deep and rough.

Phil dropped the hand that had been reaching for his glasses and raised his eyebrows, giving Clint an arch look that fell off his face when Clint’s hand found his ankle and began a slow slide up his leg.

Clint followed the path of his hand, crawling further up the mattress as his fingers climbed up Phil’s leg. When Clint’s hand reached Phil’s thigh, the muscle beneath his palm went taut, then melted. Clint’s gaze stayed on Phil’s face. Phil tried to muster up a glare, but Clint’s hand moved higher and Phil’s eyes went a little glazed despite him wanting to tell Clint off.

Phil looked momentarily surprised when Clint’s hand curled around his hip instead of taking the other path, and then slid up his side as Clint straddled Phil’s lap and made himself comfortable there.

“Hey,” Clint said softly, his face close to Phil’s.

The corner of Phil’s lips twitched “Hey back.”

Clint’s hand slid over Phil’s chest and shoulder until his fingers could curl around Phil’s neck, his thumb brushing the smooth skin along Phil’s jaw. Clint raised an eyebrow when his thumb didn’t find the scratch of stubble. Phil raised his own eyebrow in response.

“I shave before bed,” Phil said primly.

“I know,” Clint said, his own lips twitching now.

“And not only when I’m expecting to have sex.”

“So you don’t deny that you _were_ expecting to have sex,” Clint said.

“I was expecting you, so . . . .”

Clint grinned. “Fair point.” He slid his hand along Phil’s jaw until his fingers tangled in short hair still soft from his earlier shower. Clint took a few moments to just look at Phil, to catalogue and memorize every change since the last time he’d seen him. Phil looked back, unselfconscious under Clint’s regard.

Overcome with emotion, Clint said, “I love you.”

“I know,” Phil said.

“Ass,” Clint said, but he couldn’t help smiling because the darkness that had surrounded Phil had lifted. Temporarily, at least. His eyes were bright and the crinkles at the corner were from amusement rather than worry. His lips had lost their tightness and looked like they might curve up at any time. 

Cint would never take it for granted that he could do that for Phil, just as Phil could do that for him. “Do me a favor,” Clint said as he shifted in Phil’s lap.

“No,” Phil said, his expression taking on a horrified determination.

“Come on,” Clint cajoled. “Say it.”

“I’m not saying it,” Phil said firmly.

“Say it for me, please?”

“You’re an A– . . . super hero,” Phil said, changing course midstream. “I don’t know why you need me to say it.”

Clint butted his shoulder into Phil like a cat looking for pets. Phil rolled his eyes, but Clint knew he’d won. He was grinning with anticipation before Phil even spoke.

“Take me to bed, or lose me forever,” Phil said dryly.

“Again,” Clint said. “With a little more feeling this time.”

With a move that took Clint’s breath away, Phil flipped them.

“I’ll give you ‘a little more feeling’,” Phil promised dangerously as his hand slipped between them.

“I love it when you take control,” Clint gasped as Phil tugged at the buttons.

“I know.”

“And when you give up control.”

“I know.” Phil’s eyebrows arched.

Clint’s back bowed as Phil slipped his hand inside Clint’s jeans and his fingers curled around him.

“And when you do that,” Clint groaned as Phil’s hand twisted around the head.

Phil lowered his head until his breath feathered warm across Clint’s face when he said, “I know.”

Phil did it again and this time he took the sounds Clint made in response into his mouth.

~*~

“I could only make two,” Barlett said as she handed Clint the new arrows. “And I’m not sure how effective they’ll be due to their size.”

Clint knew it had been a long shot, so he was glad that Bartlett had been able to put something together in the short time she had. He’d just have to use them sparingly.

If he couldn’t dampen their powers or knock them out, at least he had his taser arrows. An electrical shock like that might disrupt their powers. Or at least distract them long enough for Steve or one of the others to get a good shot in.

Clint was already in his uniform. Sam had his wings packed away and tucked under his arm, and the Ant-Man suit was already on board Zephyr One. Like Clint’s uniform, Sam’s had body armor built in. The agents that were accompanying them on the mission wore full tactical gear, including both lethal and non-lethal weapons. They eyed both Steve and Wanda as if they weren’t sure whether they should offer them a vest or not.

Wanda wore her usual uniform, and Clint knew that she wore body armor beneath the reinforced coat. Steve, on the other hand, wore khaki’s and a t-shirt beneath a brown leather jacket and looked like he’d just stepped in off the street. Clint wondered if any of them would work up the nerve to offer Steve a vest.

Phil and Mack entered the bay. Phil handed off a shield to Steve as if he did it every day. Steve looked it over and checked the weight. The fact that Phil didn’t even pause to gauge Steve’s reaction showed how intent he was on the mission to kill HIVE and rescue Daisy, and to hopefully save all of the Inhumans from HIVE’s control.

“Everyone on the plane,” Phil ordered. “We’ll have our final briefing on the way.”

They’d come up with the plan late last night, but they reviewed it on their way to Pleasantville, as Clint had begun calling the town, and made some alterations. Once they reached their destination and had a better idea of how many Inhumans they were dealing with and where they were concentrated, they’d tweak it again.

Zephyr One was fast, quicker even than the Bus had been, and it was only a matter of 55 minutes before they approached Union City. Phil had spent most of that time staring at the plans for the town, as if he hadn’t already memorized them. Red ‘X’s denoted the buildings where the team had encountered Inhumans during their first mission, as well as the mine where the Kree satellite had crashed (and hadn’t *that* been a fun conversation).

Clint had already chosen the building that had the best sight line, but he stood with Phil, not quite shoulder-to-shoulder, and picked out second and third choices, since it was unlikely that they could draw everyone out to the intersection Steve had chosen to make their initial stand.

The pilot radioed back that they were on approach, and Phil ordered the infrared on. The numbers were about what they’d expected -- there were around sixty heat signatures scattered throughout the town. Accounting for the former HYDRA soldiers, and four Inhumans they knew about (HIVE, Daisy, James and Giyera), and the very human (mostly) Dr. Radcliffe, that left about a dozen unknown Inhumans to deal with. Not knowing what powers some of the Inhumans possessed meant they’d have to adapt on the fly. Luckily, Clint was used to doing just that.

Before they loaded onto the two Quinjets that would deliver them to their respective positions, Phil said, “Remember, these people are not our enemies; they’re being controlled by HIVE. Use non-lethal force where possible.”

The agents, armed with rubber bullets, beanbag rounds, and tasers already knew this, but Phil’s concern for Daisy made him say it again. No one looked at Clint, but he felt their gazes, anyway. Luckily, one agent had a question that took the attention off Clint.

“What about the soldiers?”

“They are our enemy,” Phil said. “If they shoot, shoot back.”

They did a final comms check and then boarded the Quinjets.

“Do what I wasn’t able to,” Mack said to Phil. “Bring Daisy back.”

Phil nodded, then boarded the Quinjet Clint wasn’t on.

Clint was dropped off on the roof before the Quinjet landed. One of the reasons he’d chosen this building was because he could position himself with the rising sun behind him, so that anyone looking in his direction would be blinded by the sun before they saw him.

The comms were quiet and Clint waited for the others to get into position. He clenched the muscles in his hands, then released them, then the muscles in his forearms. He made it to his toes when Phil’s voice finally came over comms.

“A-team in position.”

When the final team checked in, Phil said, “On my mark. Phase one, go.”

Soft pops sounded over comms as O’Brien’s team used silenced sniper rifles to dispatch the sentries. Agent O’Brien checked in. “Sentries down.”

“Phase two,” Phil said. “Go.”

“EMP pulse . . . now,” Agent Piper said, and then, “Take the garage.”

Clint waited, forcing his muscles to remain relaxed.

A moment later, Piper said, “Dr. Radcliffe is secure. There was no one else at the garage.”

(Clint later found out that Holden Radcliffe had nearly sobbed in relief when the SHIELD agents had showed up to take him into custody.)

“Phase three,” Phil said, and Clint felt the tension hum through his body as he readied his bow. “Go.”

Throughout the town, tear gas canisters were shot through windows of occupied buildings in a synchronized attack. From his position, Clint rapid-fired three tear gas arrows into three different buildings. People began running into the street, choking, disorganized. It was easy to tell the HYDRA soldiers from the Inhumans, because they came out shooting.

No longer able to maintain the element of surprise, they could make some noise of their own now. Sam swooped in and fired back. Wanda grabbed a soldier and tossed him into a wall. Clint followed the battle from his vantage point; he fired three arrows one after the other, including one that took out a soldier who had Wanda in his sights.

All through the town sounds of gunfire echoed, but people fell to the ground in eerie quiet, as if Clint was watching an old silent movie. Mack’s calm voice over comms confirmed via infrared signature that a building had been cleared. Two more soldiers went down when Steve’s shield came out of nowhere and clipped them. It came close to hitting a third, but missed.

“Missed your target, Rogers,” Clint said.

“The balance is off,” Steve said, sounding irritated at the miss.

Clint grinned. “Sure it is.”

Once the Inhumans were subdued, cuffed if necessary, they were placed inside one of the containment modules that dropped out of Zephyr One’s belly to collect them.

One of the Inhumans was able to throw fireballs that exploded, and Clint guessed it was the newly-turned James. Wanda easily caught a fireball in her energy just before it hit one of the agents and contained the explosion.

“Impressive,” James said, actually sounding impressed. He gave Wanda a once-over. “The boss is gonna like you.”

“He really isn’t,” Wanda said. She let an energy ball form in her hands and threw it at James. It caught him in the shoulder and threw him back. Her hands danced through the air as red ribbons of energy wound around James and pinned his arms to his sides. Wanda picked up James and floated him over to one of the containment modules.

Clint couldn’t see him safely delivered because just then five Inhumans stepped out of the church they suspected to still be HIVE’s headquarters. One man was in the lead, with four others, three women and one man, flanking him.

“That’s Giyera,” Mack said over comms.

As they’d hoped, once the fighting started, Giyera would be drawn out. That was Steve’s cue. He stepped out into the center of the street and walked towards the intersection where they’d hoped to confront Giyera.

“Captain America,” Giyera said when Steve got close enough to hear. “What?” he said, mistaking Steve’s reaction. “You thought eschewing the distinctive uniform and painting your shield would somehow make you less recognizable?”

“No,” Steve said, “But I thought it might make you overconfident.”

Giyera smirked. “I’m not worried about Captain America,” he said, and then he reached for Steve’s shield with his powers and yanked on it. The shield jerked in Steve’s hand, but he managed to resist the pull for a moment. Giyera pulled harder, and as soon as he did, Steve released the shield. It immediately separated into a dozen projectiles that Giyera was forced to contend with.

Giyera batted the pieces of shield away like flies and snarled at the other Inhumans to fight. He looked annoyed, as if it hurt his pride to need their assistance. Sam left the agents to deal with the remaining HYDRA soldiers and Inhumans and came to assist Steve. One of the female Inhumans sprouted wings and leapt into the air to meet Sam.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Sam muttered.

Clint grinned. “Jealous?”

While Giyera was distracted by Steve, Clint fired the first of the two power dampening arrows. At the last moment Giyera turned and caught the arrow with his power just inches before it would have struck him. He let it fall and followed the path of the arrow to its source. He looked annoyed, but not unsettled when he spotted Clint. Giyera waved his hand in Clint’s direction and a piece of duct work on top of the roof shuddered. Before it could be ripped loose and flung at Clint, the dampening field took effect. Giyera went to one knee as if the strength had suddenly been drained from him.

“Bite me, Barton,” Sam said as he engaged with Bird Woman. Sam’s suit was equipped with weapons that he’d been able to use against the soldiers, but he was hobbled by the priority of saving these people from HIVE’s control.

Which gave Clint an idea. “Be nice,” he said as he selected a bolo arrow from the quiver. “Or I won’t help you out.” Clint notched the arrow and sighted. “Drop,” he commanded as he released the arrow.

Sam dropped, and the bolo wrapped around the bird woman’s wings, sending her plummeting to the ground. Sam managed to grab her just before she hit pavement. “I thought we were supposed to be saving these people.”

“A broken bone is better than dead,” Clint said. Or one of his teammates dead.

A moment later the dampening field failed and Giyera rose to his feet. “Is that all you’ve got?” he snarled. He reached out and grabbed a bench, a lamp post, and a mailbox and sent them tumbling through the air towards Steve, and the duct behind Clint finally broke free with a loud screech.

Giyera looked surprised when red ribbons of energy caught them all before they could smash into Steve (or Clint), who hadn’t moved a muscle even in the face of being impaled by a lamppost.

“No,” Steve said calmly as Wanda floated into view and carefully set the items down in the street. “I’ve got more.”

Giyera reached for something else to use as a battering ram, a car that someone had abandoned, or that belonged to one of HIVE’s minions, but Wanda caught it mid-air and threw it back towards him. Giyera was forced to duck out of the way and use his powers defensively. While he was preoccupied with saving himself, Wanda wrapped her energy around him and used her powers to contain his.

If Giyera was strong enough, he might be able to break through the energy surrounding him. Clint didn’t know what the backlash would do to Wanda if Giyera succeeded. He didn’t wait to find out. He chose a taser arrow and aimed it at Giyera. At the same time, a dozen rubber bullets found their way past Giyera’s contained defenses. Clint wasn’t sure whether he was knocked senseless by the bullets, or if the taser disrupted his powers, but Giyera dropped like a sack of rocks and only Wanda’s power kept him from falling to the ground. Agent Anderson called for the containment module and they got Giyera put away before he recovered his powers.

Giyera’s telekinetic powers had been neutralized, and one of his Inhumans contained, but they still had three other Inhumans to deal with. As they’d expected, HIVE had surrounded himself with the most dangerous of the Inhumans under his control, which is why Steve’s team had been dispatched to handle them. One of them had prehensile hair that whipped out and choked an agent unconscious before the barrage of rubber bullets forced him to release her and a well-aimed taser further distracted him.

Another controlled plants, and she caused branches to come down and grab at the agents, and grass to grow up like vines to encircle their ankles. (Even after her powers were dampened by the containment module, the plants still retained their hold and the agents later had to be cut out of the branches and grass that wound around them.) The third had bark-like skin and packed a mean punch, as Agent Anderson discovered. Thankfully, she wasn’t immune to Clint’s taser arrow, and when her powers flickered she was hit with enough rubber bullets and beanbag rounds to disrupt her concentration.

Wanda was able to grab the three of them in ribbons of energy and deposit them inside the containment module with their fellow Inhumans.

Clint’s first thought when the last Inhuman was contained was, Phil.

~*~

Clint changed comm frequencies to the channel Phil was using for Phase Four even as he chose a zip line arrow from his quiver. He ran for the edge of the roof, leaving the others to mop up. Clint clicked twice to let Phil know he was there, and almost immediately heard Daisy’s voice over the wire Phil was wearing.

“ . . . shouldn’t have come, Coulson,” Daisy said angrily. “Not after what happened last time.”

Of course Phil had gone in early. Clint shot the arrow. The exploding tip lodged itself into a chimney on the roof of the building directly across the street. Clint gave the line a tug to make sure it was secure, then straddled the cable with his bow and zipped down it.

“He had to.” It was Ward’s voice, but colder, deader. No pun intended. “You’re like a daughter to him.”

Clint raced across the roof and jumped over the space separating it from the next.

HIVE’s voice turned considering. “How does it feel to know that Daisy chose me?”

“She didn’t choose you,” Phil said evenly, “because you never gave her a choice. Not a real one.”

Clint chose a grappling arrow as he ran. He leapt off the edge of the roof and turned in midair, then shot the arrow. It hooked on the edge of the roof he’d just vacated and Clint fell until he reached the end of the line, then swung. He released the cable and hit the ground, rolled to his feet and ran to the abandoned church that HIVE had been using as his headquarters, probably out of a sense of irony.

Wanda was waiting for him. “I could’ve caught you,” she said.

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Wanda shook her head. “You sound just like Pietro.”

“You take that back,” Clint said, but Wanda just smiled.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Daisy said inside Clint’s ear.

“But she will,” HIVE said confidently.

“I’ve got to get in there now,” Clint said.

“There’s a back door,” Wanda said. “I scouted it out while you were running and jumping.”

“What was your plan, exactly?” HIVE said. “Your first attempt to stop me didn’t go so well. As I recall, one of your agents got hurt pretty badly.”

Clint followed Wanda around to the back of the church. The door was locked, but it was only the matter of a moment before Wanda had used her powers to unlock it. Clint silently slipped inside and found himself standing in a room filled with tables and chairs, and through a pass-through he could see a kitchen area.

“He’s stalling,” Daisy said suddenly.

“I know,” HIVE said, sounding unconcerned.

Clint found the stairs and ran up them. He was in a foyer area at the back of the sanctuary. He peeked around the door. Phil, Daisy, and HIVE all stood in the middle aisle between rows of pews, some of which had already been smashed. Since Phil was still standing, Clint figured that damage had occurred during HIVE’s battle with the Kree. As he watched, HIVE reached out and closed its fingers in the air. Agent Bartlett was dragged out of the shadows, choking and scrabbling at the invisible fingers cutting off her air.

Phil pulled his weapon and fired at HIVE. The bullets hit the creature, but it was as unaffected as if they were gnats. Daisy concentrated her powers on the floor beneath Phil, who stumbled when the floor shook.

“Who is this?” HIVE asked Daisy.

“Agent Bartlett,” Daisy responded readily, as if eager to please the being that controlled her. “She’s a scientist.”

“Can we use her?”

The fact that there was no inflection in his voice when he discussed the fate of a human being was creepy as hell.

Daisy hesitated. “She might prove useful.”

HIVE waited until it was sure that Agent Bartlett had fallen unconscious before dropping her body to the floor. It ignored her and turned its full attention onto Daisy as if it didn’t have a care in the world. “Kill him,” it said, voice deceptively mild.

Daisy turned her head to look at HIVE. The floor beneath Phil continued to tremble as if they were in the middle of an earthquake, but the use of her powers appeared to be putting an unexpected strain on her.

“He’s not one of us,” HIVE said. “He’ll never be one of us.” It gestured towards Phil’s cybernetic hand. “He’s already been proven unworthy of the transformation.”

Scott wasn’t in place yet, but Clint couldn’t wait any longer. He shot the second dampening arrow at HIVE. The arrow struck the floor at HIVE’s feet and the being gave the vibrating shaft a cursory, dismissive glance.

“It looks like Coulson brought his pet archer,” HIVE said, and the words, the tone, were suddenly all Ward.

“I’m nobody’s pet,” Clint called. “Unless we’re doing roleplay.”

“Euww,” Wanda said softly from beside Clint.

The dampening field flickered for a moment, long enough for Daisy to shake off HIVE’s control. She stopped using her powers against Phil and she shook her head as if she was coming out of a daze. “What . . . ?”

HIVE, realizing what had happened, pulled the arrow out of the floor with ease despite its weakened powers, and tossed it far away from itself. “That was a weak effort,” HIVE said, then repeated his order to Daisy. “Kill him.”

The confusion on Daisy’s face melted away and was replaced by resolve, and HIVE was back in complete control of her. But for a few brief seconds it hadn’t been. Clint knew it, and so did Phil.

Daisy aimed her powers at Phil, and it wasn’t merely the floor beneath his feet that vibrated, but the molecules that made up his entire body. If no one stopped her, Daisy was going to shake Phil apart like she’d once done to a mountainside. Clint chose a taser arrow and fired it at Daisy. It struck her in the shoulder and she fell to the floor, convulsing from the electrical charge.

“Now,” Phil managed to say, though his voice sounded strangled, weak.

Scott, in the Ant-Man suit, returned to full size and slapped his hand down on the button to activate the dampening device that he and his ant buddies had moved into position without being seen. Scott had been right; no one paid attention to ants.

The effects of the device would last longer than Clint’s arrow had, but not by much, and not if HIVE moved outside of its limited range. Clint drew another taser arrow and fired it, this time at HIVE, though he had no idea if the dead body HIVE possessed would be affected in the same manner Daisy had been. If not, Clint figured he’d at least be distracted enough for them to try something else.

Clint followed up on the taser arrow with an explosive arrow and then an acid arrow, but HIVE just looked annoyed that he was being forced to expend energy regenerating. He pulled the arrows off of and out of his body, and tossed them to the side. He looked directly at Clint, who gave an insouciant wave, and then his view was blocked as agents swarmed the building, firing tranquilizers and live rounds at HIVE.

They all knew that bullets wouldn’t kill it, they just needed to incapacitate HIVE long enough to get it contained, and then they could figure out what to do with it. The bullets kept HIVE distracted, but otherwise didn’t affect it.

“You are all very annoying,” HIVE said. “I will be pleased to kill you all.”

Daisy had stopped convulsing and now looked horrified as she remembered what she’d done. Phil was helping her to her feet when the dampening device died. Daisy placed her hand flat against Phil’s chest, though the horrified expression never left her face, as if HIVE’s control was no longer as absolute as it had been; it was enough to make her _do_ the task, but not complete enough to make her believe it was right.

Clint didn’t hesitate. He drew the I.C.E.R. he’d brought and shot Daisy. If HIVE’s control was faltering, the dendrotoxin might work. He was surprised when it actually did.

HIVE looked more annoyed than fearful at the turn of events.

“Guess you’ll have to do your own dirty work now,” Clint said.

Clint dropped the I.C.E.R. and his bow, both ineffective against HIVE and moved in. HIVE picked up the wooden arm off an already shattered pew and swung it. The agents around him fell back, but one didn’t move fast enough and the sound of bone snapping was loud in the otherwise silent room.

“Ward was good at hand-to-hand,” Phil warned as Clint passed him.

“He never sparred with Natasha,” Clint said.

HIVE _was_ good, and Clint belatedly remembered that Ward _had_ sparred with May. Still, Clint was able to hold his own until HIVE threw him and he landed badly, all the air knocked out of his lungs. HIVE grabbed a taser arrow out of Clint’s discarded quiver and approached Clint.

“Little help here,” Clint groaned.

Just before the taser arrow struck him, Wanda’s power took hold of it, and of the arm wielding it. HIVE tilted its head when it saw her. “What are you?”

“I’m an Avenger,” Wanda said.

“Technically, an ex-Avenger,” Clint said as he got to his knees. “You took your time.”

“I was waiting for the signal!” Wanda said.

“No,” HIVE said, their banter meaningless to it. “You have great power, but you’re not Inhuman,” it said with wonder.

HIVE held out the hand not currently being restrained by ribbons of energy. What appeared to be motes of dust rose from his skin and traveled towards Wanda.

“Wanda, watch out!” Phil called in warning.

The motes entered Wanda and her head jerked back, her eyes wide. She sneezed and her grip on HIVE weakened.

“Together we can rule the world,” HIVE said, sounding pleased. “With you beside me, we’ll be unstoppable.”

Wanda glared at HIVE. “Been there, done that. And did you seriously just try to brain whammy me?”

“I had to try,” HIVE said. “If you can’t be controlled, then you’re of no use to me.”

HIVE brought the taser arrow around towards Wanda. Clint kicked out at it’s knee and sent HIVE sprawling across the floor.

“She’s had her brains scrambled enough,” Clint said.

“Thank you. I think,” said Wanda.

There was the sound of breaking glass, and Sam came hurtling in through the now open window. “What do you need?” Sam said as he landed, his wings snapping closed behind him.

“The containment module,” Phil said in that controlled tone that meant he was very much freaking out inside. “And medics.”

Sam went to the window and radioed for the containment module and medics. When he returned he explained, “You guys have been off-comms for the past few minutes. There must be something in the building, or the dampening device knocked ‘em out when it was activated.”

Wanda grabbed HIVE with her powers, but he somehow managed to stand, even if he did so slowly, as if he was moving through quicksand.

“How are you doing that?” Wanda said, her voice strained.

“I adapt,” HIVE said. “It’s what I do.”

Looking grim at that pronouncement, Phil said, “Now, May.”

A door at the back of the sanctuary was kicked open and a fierce-looking Agent May entered the church as if she’d just been waiting for the order. Clint was surprised to see her, but Phil, of course, was not.

“What’s this?” Clint said.

“The cavalry,” HIVE said when it saw May.

“Don’t call me that,” May snarled.

“Insurance,” Phil said to Clint. “We need to get Daisy out of here. Now.”

“I’ll take her,” Sam said, and carefully lifted Daisy in his arms.

“Pull back!” Phil ordered the agents.

Clint looked around the sanctuary to see who else needed help, but Scott was already lifting Agent Bartlett, and the agent with the broken arm was being helped to the rear of the sanctuary. The other agents covered their backs and they all pulled back. That left Clint, Phil, Wanda, and May with HIVE. Bullets didn’t affect it, the taser, explosive, and acid arrows were only minimally effective against it, and it had more than held its own during hand-to-hand.

When Clint looked back, Wanda was under even more strain, and HIVE had freed himself further from her power. “We might be able to overwhelm him if we all gang up on him at once,” Clint suggested.

“It’s not going to come to that,” Phil said tightly.

Clint narrowed his eyes at Phil’s response, but turned his attention to HIVE.

“Haven’t you already learned,” HIVE said conversationally. “There is nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Maybe you’re right,” May said, matching HIVE’s tone. “But I’m willing to give it a shot.”

“I have all of Grant Ward’s memories, so I know why you are so angry with him. But I am not Grant Ward.”

“No, you’re worse. And believe me, I never thought I’d say that.”

“You would make a magnificent Inhuman,” HIVE observed.

“That’s not going to happen,” May said. She didn’t take her eyes off of HIVE, but said to Phil, “Can’t I hurt him, just a little bit?”

“Stick with the plan,” Phil said.

“What plan?” Clint hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

“I’ll explain later,” Phil said when HIVE finally broke free of Wanda’s control and the recoil sent her to the ground, too exhausted to stand. “Get her out of here, and don’t let any other enhanced people come in here, just in case.”

“You mean Steve?” Clint said as he gathered Wanda up in his arms.

As Clint hurried to the back of the sanctuary, HIVE continued to taunt May behind him. “Grant Ward thought you were, in his words, a poor lay, and only mediocre when it came to hand-to-hand.”

Clint could almost hear May’s teeth grind. “He thought I mediocre at hand-to-hand?”

She must’ve given Phil a look, because he sighed and said, “Alright, take your shot.”

The sound of grunts and flesh hitting flesh followed Clint down the stairs. He met Sam coming back up and transferred Wanda to him. “Keep Steve and Wanda out of here,” Clint said. “Phil’s got something planned.”

Sam gave Clint a confused look, but he just nodded his agreement. Clint took the stairs two at a time back to the top. When he slipped back inside the sanctuary, May was already bloodied and given the way she held herself, her ribs had been cracked. HIVE had some blood trickling from its nose and it looked impressed.

“I think perhaps Grant Ward’s estimation of your hand-to-hand capabilities was colored by the fact that he couldn’t beat you,” HIVE said, but it still didn’t sound worried.

“Ya think?” May said as she moved back in.

HIVE did something that looked like it was pulling in the air around him, and it threw what it had gathered at May. There was nothing to see, but the power of it hit her in the chest and knocked her back. She stumbled and went down. HIVE moved in and knelt beside her. It placed its hand against her chest, then it looked up at Phil with Grant Ward’s face.

“This is how you did it, right?”

Phil’s face went white, but he didn’t speak or even move in response.

“Aren’t we going to do something?” Clint said.

“I told you, you can’t beat me.”

“We didn’t have to,” May said. “We just needed to distract you.”

May made a sound of pain when HIVE’s hand pushed against her chest. “What have you done?” it growled, the overly-pleasant and confident tone of its voice changed.

“Brought an old friend,” May said, pushing out the words with some difficulty.

The doorway at the back of the sanctuary was filled once more, this time by a large, blue man-shaped creature. Lash.

“ _This_ is your back-up plan?” Clint said as he instinctively took a step back before stopping himself. “Doesn’t he want to kill _all_ the Inhumans?”

HIVE turned around to see who had entered the sanctuary, and all the color that was left in its pale skin bled out when it saw Lash.

“No,” Phil said. “I don’t think so. Though it’s hard to tell, really. That’s why we made sure all the other Inhumans were rounded up before we brought him in. But I’m pretty sure he wants to kill this one.”

Phil’s words were punctuated by a loud roar. Clint glanced at HIVE. Its face had lost all traces of confidence and there was fear there now.

“You,” HIVE said, and then he had to duck an energy blast that hit the pew he’d been standing in front of and sent shards and slivers of wood exploding through the air.

Clint and Phil ducked instinctively, and Phil threw his hand up. A shield-shaped energy field appeared, and the shards and slivers of wood bounced off harmlessly.

“Cool,” Clint said.

“I know, right?”

Phil dropped the shield and they both reached for May, who was attempting to crab crawl away from where the fight was taking place. HIVE was pulling on all the powers it had gained since returning to Earth, but it was no match for Lash.

Still, Clint felt compelled to ask, “Should we be helping?”

“We need to stay out of his way,” May said, sounding detached from the situation, despite the bruises she’d be sporting tomorrow, and the fact that she was looking at what was left of her ex-husband.

Clint knew that she was anything _but_ detached, but he let her have it, instead turning to Phil. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I’m sorry for keeping that from you,” Phil said, “but I wasn’t sure if HIVE had any telepathic Inhumans with him, so the fewer people who knew the better.”

The fight was over relatively quickly. HIVE was good, but now fear was informing every move it made; it wasn’t as quick, and its blows weren’t as hard. Lash, on the other hand, was implacable, intent on one purpose. He shot energy blasts at HIVE, ripped up pews and threw them, used them as battering rams, and HIVE eventually tripped itself up. Literally, it tripped over a pew that it had previously dodged.

Lash was on HIVE so quickly that Clint wasn’t sure he’d seen him move. Clint looked away when Lash ripped a hole in HIVE’s chest. Lash stayed bent over HIVE’s body.

“What’s he waiting for?” Clint said, but before he’d even gotten the words out, a slug-like creature crawled out of HIVE’s mouth. “Euww.”

Lash snatched up the creature before it got very far, and he crushed it in his hand.

“Double euww,” Clint said.

Lash roared victoriously, and then curled in around himself.

May tapped her comms. “Bring in the containment,” she said.

A few moments later, Fitz and Simmons appeared, pushing a cart that held what appeared to be a coffin.

“Hello,” Simmons greeted cheerily.

Clint gave a bemused wave.

“They were supposed to stay with the files,” Phil said tightly.

“They did,” May said, and she left them to approached Lash. “Lash.”

Lash, who hadn’t moved since killing HIVE, turned his head to look at May. He looked confused. “Am I done now?”

“Yes,” May said, but she sounded sad about it, rather than pleased. She reached out with her hand, but before she could touch him, Lash reared back, neck arching as it began to change.

Simmons and Fitz, both wearing long rubber gloves, loaded HIVE’s body into what turned out to be a lead-lined containment box. “Oh, this is nasty,” Simmons said as she scooped up what was left of the slug-like creature and placed it in the box, as well.

Just a few feet away from them, Lash’s body writhed in pain as it transformed.

“Oh, look, it’s Andrew,” Simmons said with a sappy grin.

“Andrew?” May said, going to her knees.

“Melinda?”

“All’s well that ends well, right?” Fitz said as they watched Melinda pull Andrew, weak and bloody from where HIVE’s punches had landed on Lash, into her lap.

Clint looked around at the damage, remembered Wanda, Daisy, and Bartlett being taken out of there, and all the agents and Inhumans who’d been hurt during the op. “Yeah,” he said.

“Oh, hey, May, did you tell Coulson that we stole the files?” Fitz said.

“I was just getting to that,” May said dryly.

“You what?” Phil said.

“Oh, yeah, and General Talbot’s been trying to get a hold of you,” Simmons added.

~*~

“They stole the files from the Siberian facility,” Phil repeated.

He’d just returned from checking on the conditions of Daisy and the other Inhumans who’d been controlled by HIVE, and having a check-up himself at Clint’s insistence, after having been the victim of Daisy’s powers, and now stood in the middle of his office slash quarters on Zephyr One. ‘Middle’ being a relative concept in a room built to take up a minimum amount of space.

“Would you rather that Ross get his hands on it?” Clint said, squeezing into the room behind Phil and sliding the door closed.

“Of course not!” Phil said. “That man is a menace. Secretary of State or not, that man would be the first in line if he thought he could re-create the super soldier serum. And he wouldn’t care what it did to the men and women he experimented on.”

“So what’s the problem?” Clint said.

“This won’t go unnoticed,” Phil said. “Ross, Talbot, President Ellis. People know those files exist. As much as I’d like to, we can’t just disappear them.”

“What _are_ you going to do?”

“Now that we’ve taken care of HIVE I can free up resources to help Fitz and Simmons go through the files. Once I know how dangerous the information is, I’ll have a better idea on how to handle it.”

Before Clint could say anything, a disembodied voice came over the internal comms. “Director, there’s an incoming call from General Talbot.”

Between one moment and the next, Director Coulson’s bland mask covered the worry and weariness that Clint, one of the few people around whom Phil let down his guard, was witness to. Phil straightened the shirt he wore, more out of habit than a hope for it to actually do anything, because nothing short of a wash and press was going to fix the result of a long day and a mission, successful or not.

Phil sat behind his desk and accepted the call.

“Coulson,” Talbot said.

“General Talbot.”

“You look like something the cat dragged in,” Talbot commented, more an observation than a statement of concern.

“It’s been a long day,” Phil said. “We’ve taken care of our infestation problem.”

Talbot’s voice changed to surprise with a little bit of reluctantly impressed added in. “Really?”

“We managed to take out the whole hive,” Phil said.

There was a moment of silence while Talbot digested the news. Finally he said, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Phil said, his voice showing nothing of the concern he’d had for Daisy, the hate he’d had for Ward, the disgust at himself. “But that’s not what you called about. What can I do for you, Glenn?”

“Using my first name isn’t going to magically make me trust you, Phil. Or forget that your people stole some sensitive information today.”

“Since the ACTU is under the auspices of SHIELD, even if the President doesn’t want that to be made public, I think we can both agree that ‘borrowed’ is the better term.”

“We’ll have to agree to disagree,” Talbot said, “because that’s not what I’m calling about.”

Clint rolled his eyes and made a ‘get on with it’ gesture. The movement caught Phil’s eyes and he made a minute motion in Clint’s direction before he caught himself. Talbot noticed it, anyway.

“Someone else there with you? It wouldn’t be Barton, would it?”

“Agent Barton has retired,” Phil said. “And last I heard, he was incarcerated on the Raft with a group of super heroes.”

“Well, I’m sure that one of your many Captain America Google alerts told you that _someone_ broke Barton and his superhero buddies out of jail.”

“Hmm,” Phil said. “It’s probably just as well since they were denied due process.”

“As fascinating as that discussion would be, that’s not why I called, either.”

“I’m waiting with baited breath to hear why you did,” Phil said, every word oozing false sincerity.

“How did Fury put up with your sarcastic ass?”

“It’s too bad you can’t ask him,” Phil said. “I’m sure Nick would’ve _loved_ you.”

Talbot sighed. “Why do I keep letting myself get off track with you?”

“I think you just enjoy these conversations.”

“We’re not going to enjoy this one. Registration,” Talbot said before Phil could take them off on another tangent.

“What registration?” Phil said. “Cars, planes, guns, helicarriers . . . ?”

Clint could hear the frown in Talbot’s voice. “You have a helicarrier?”

“Registration?” Phil said, giving no sign that he’d heard Talbot or made the slip.

“Inhumans,” Talbot said, letting it go. For now.

“What about them?”

“In lieu of the Sokovia Accords . . . .”

Phil’s eyes lit with rage, though otherwise his expression didn’t change, nor did his voice. “SHIELD already has an Index.”

“This wouldn’t be an internal SHIELD matter,” Talbot said.

“No, absolutely not,” Phil said, his control slipping.

“It’s not your decision to make, Phil,” Talbot said. Surprisingly, he didn’t actually sound like he was enjoying the moment. “This comes directly from the President. I’ll be at the Playground at ten hundred tomorrow to fill you in. That should give you enough time to get your house in order before I arrive.”

Talbot cut the communication, but Phil remained where he was, staring unseeing at the screen.

“Phil?”

“The world has gone mad,” Phil said. He rattled off a set of numbers, then said, “Repeat them.”

Clint did. “What are they?”

“Coordinates,” Phil said.

“To what?”

“To the location of the vault where they’re storing everything they got out of the Siberian facility.”

“I thought May already stole all the files,” Clint said lightly.

“The files,” Phil said. “Not the cryostasis chambers. Or the bodies.”

Clint’s eyes went wide. “And you want me to . . . .”

“I just thought that information might be of interest to Captain Rogers.”

“You ‘just thought’,” Clint repeated. “Phil, what are you doing?” he said softly.

“I’m trying to do the right thing. Sometimes I feel like I’m just hanging on by my fingernails,” Phil admitted.

Before Clint could say anything in response to that, the door slid open and Daisy stuck her head in. “Hey, am I interrupting?”

“What are you doing up?” Phil said immediately, worry for Daisy overriding his concerns about the conversation with Talbot for the moment.

“I’m fine,” Daisy said. “Except for the . . . things in my brain.” She waggled her fingers at her head. “Though Simmons has assured me they’re inert, or whatever. Something about loss of contact with the HIVE mind. Get it?” she added. “Hive mind.”

“I get it,” Phil said dryly. “You need rest.”

“I need to apologize,” Daisy said.

“None of this was your fault,” Phil said. “Once HIVE infected you, you had no choice.”

“I just, I feel like I should’ve been . . . stronger, or something,” Daisy said. “You know?”

“Yeah,” Clint said, “ I know.” The memories of what he’d done under Loki’s control were never far from his mind.

“Oh, man, sorry!” Daisy said, looking stricken, as if she’d just remember who she was speaking in front of. “Foot, meet mouth.”

“No,” Clint said, shaking his head. “You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me. I’ve dealt with my shit.”

It was even mostly true. He only had nightmares about his part in taking down the helicarrier very occasionally now.

“I remember everything I did,” Daisy said.

Clint nodded.

“Does it get better?”

“Yes,” Clint said without hesitation.

“How?”

“Time, mostly,” Clint said. “Some therapy.” He felt Phil’s gaze on him, but he didn’t, couldn’t turn his head to meet his eyes.

“I don’t think Andrew’s going to be up for doing therapy sessions for a while,” Daisy said wryly, then after a slight hesitation, “Do you ever stop feeling guilty about the people you hurt?”

“No,” Clint said. He wished he could’ve told her differently. “You know it’s not your fault, not entirely,” he clarified. “Mainly because people keep telling you that. And because you really, really want to believe them. And most days you do.”

“Well,” Daisy said, sounding disappointed. “Not the uplifting pep talk I was hoping for, but thank you for being honest.”

“Anytime,” Clint said.

Daisy smiled. “Seriously, thank you.”

“You’re seriously welcome. And I meant it, anytime. Those of us who have been mind-controlled need to stick together.”

“Maybe we could start a club,” Daisy suggested.

“Great idea. Though I think we’ll have to face time, because I have a feeling that Phil’s kicking us out.”

Clint finally made himself look at Phil, who was wearing all his emotions on his face. “Clint.”

“What’s going on?” Daisy said.

“It’s a long story,” Phil said, his Director mask slipping back into place, though it looked like it didn’t fit very well.

“Actually, Fitz and Simmons filled me in on a lot fo what I missed,” Daisy said. “What can I say, SHIELD agents _love_ to gossip.”

“Long story short, General Talbot is going to be paying us a visit,” Phil said.

“And that’s bad,” Daisy guessed.

“Given the world’s current view on powered individuals, the Sokovia Accords, and the fact that we’re currently harboring fugitives?” Phil said.

“Like I said, bad.”

“We’ll be landing soon,” Phil said. “Tell everyone that we need to meet in the conference room the moment we touch down.”

Daisy saluted. “Will do, DC.”

Clint’s lips quirked at the nickname. They tightened the moment the door slid closed behind Daisy, leaving him alone with Phil.

“Clint . . . .”

“Don’t,” Clint said.

“I should’ve been there.”

“Yes,” Clint said, the vehemence of his agreement catching Phil by surprise. “You should have been. But we can’t go back and change what’s already happened. We can only move forward. More or less together.”

Emotions played over Phil’s face. “More or less?” he finally said.

“I’d prefer more,” Clint said. “But sometimes you’ve got to play the hand you’re dealt. And I’ll take less if my other option is none at all.”

“You shouldn’t have to make a choice,” Phil said.

“I can’t stay here,” Clint said. “And you can’t quit and go on the run with me. So where does that leave us?”

“One day it’ll be more,” Phil said.

“Promise?”

They both knew it was a promise Phil couldn’t keep. He made it anyway. “I promise. If it’s at all within my power, it’ll happen.”

Clint pushed Phil back against the desk and kissed him until a disembodied voice came over the comms to announce that they were on approach to the Playground. Before they stepped out of the office, Phil pulled his public persona back around him like a cloak, but he couldn’t hide the flush that had risen to his cheeks, or lips swollen from their stolen kiss.

Before the ramp opened, Phil ordered Fitz and Simmons to gather as many agents as possible to go through the file boxes they’d liberated and set guards on the containment modules. The rest of them, including Daisy and May, even though Andrew was being taken to the Infirmary, headed for the conference room. Phil waited for May to close the door, but most of them were still standing when he began speaking.

“General Talbot will be here at ten hundred tomorrow, which means he’ll probably come early to see if he can’t catch us with our pants down.” Phil looked at Steve, his gaze moving over the others, Wanda, Sam, Scott, and finally Clint. “None of you can be here when he arrives.”

“Where are we gonna go?” Wanda said, sounding more curious than worried.

“I’ve got a place,” Clint said. The farm had been purchased under non-SHIELD cover identities, and so it should still be safe. “We should be safe there for a while.”

“Clint, Tony knows about the farm,” Steve said evenly.

“Maybe your olive branch will give him a reason to not mention it,” Clint said.

“Maybe,” Steve said hopefully.

“The other problem Talbot presents is to our current population of Inhumans. He mentioned registration.”

“They want to put our names on a list?” Daisy said.

“What they did to the Avengers was just the first step,” Phil said. “But we can’t let the Inhumans we capture go, like Elena and Joey, until we know they’re not a danger.”

“To us, or to themselves?” Daisy said.

“Either,” Phil said. “The third thing is the files. He’s going to want them back, so we need to get them reviewed before he gets here and asks us to turn them over.”

“You’re just going to give them back?” Steve said.

“Yes,” Phil said calmly. “Right now Talbot thinks we needed to look at those files because of HIVE. We don’t want to give him any reason to think otherwise. At least, not until it’s too late.”

“Too late for what?” Sam said.

“Those files should be destroyed,” Steve said.

“We’re looking for information to help Sergeant Barnes,” Phil said. “What if it’s in there and we miss it? Do you really want to destroy the very documents that might save him? Or hold the cure for cancer?”

Phil and Steve stared at each other for a long moment. “I understand your concern, Captain. It’s a catch-22.”

“I’ve read that book,” Steve said absently.

“We make the best decision we can with the information we have. Isn’t that what you do?”

“I’ll help,” Steve finally said. “Look through the files. We’ve still got time before we need to leave, right?”

“Yes,” Phil said.

“I’ll help, too, man,” Sam said.

Clint looked at Wanda, then Scott. “We all will.”

Steve gave them a grateful nod.

~*~

Clint had loaded his bow and uniform onto the Quinjet and completed a preliminary systems check, and now he was heading back to the conference room to find Phil. It was too much to hope for a private goodbye, but he wasn’t going to leave without getting at least a hug from his damned husband. (Or should that be ‘damned hug from his husband’? Nope, Clint was sticking with ‘damned husband’.)

A couple of hours ago he’d left everyone, both SHIELD agents and fellow ex-Avengers, in the conference room, gathered around file boxes and the copy machine and scanner, in order to grab a shower and a power nap. He’d known that Steve (and therefore Sam) wouldn’t be pulled away from HYDRA’s files on the Winter Soldier Program until the very last minute, and someone had to be alert enough (or the least bleary-eyed) to pilot the Quinjet.

Wanda had fallen asleep on the conference table and Agent Bartlett, who’d insisted on helping with the files despite her misadventure at HIVE’s hands, had offered to help her to her quarters. Wanda had maintained that she wasn’t really asleep, but finally, after exhortations from both Steve and Clint, allowed Bartlett (whose first name turned out to be Margaret ‘call me Mags’, Clint learned when she told it to Wanda) to help her as far as the lounge. When Scott fell out of his chair while reaching for a file, he was sent to keep Wanda company. Sam powered on through caffeine and sheer determination to not leave Steve’s side while he was immersed in details of the Russians slash HYDRA’s treatment of their Winter Soldiers, muttering, “On your left, my ass,” every once in a while, which both Sam and Steve _still_ refused to explain to Clint.

Some of the agents had given in to exhaustion and were sent to their quarters to get some sleep. Other’s took a quick power nap and got back to it. Fitz, Simmons and Daisy were all still present, even though the three of them looked like they would drop at any moment. May was sitting at Andrew’s bedside in the Infirmary, but she had taken a stack of files with her. Clint knew that it would be nearly impossible for them to get through all the files before they had to leave, and he didn’t relish being the one who had to drag Steve away from them.

A hand suddenly shot out of a side corridor and grabbed Clint’s arm. Clint was dragged into the corridor before he could recover from the surprise attack. He blamed lack of sleep, but was glad he hadn’t been quicker to retaliate when he realized that his attacker was the very man he’d gone in search of.

“Hey,” Clint said, a little breathless from adrenaline, “I was just looking for you.”

“You’ve found me,” Phil said. His eyes were a little bit glazed with sleep deprivation, but the corners crinkled in amusement at Clint’s expense. He slipped his hand into Clint’s and led him down the corridor.

“Where are we going?” Clint said.

“That information is above your clearance level, Agent,” Phil said.

A couple of turns later Clint’s knowledge of the base layout (from the exploring he’d done when he’d first turned up there a year ago) told him that they were headed towards Phil’s office, though by a very circuitous route.

“I’d like a moment alone with my husband before he leaves for who knows how long,” Phil said.

The words were spoken cheekily, but there was enough melancholy in the tone to make Clint grateful to know that Phil was going to miss him as much as he was going to miss Phil.

“I wasn’t sure we were going to get a private goodbye,” Clint said. He followed Phil into the office and moved past him when he paused to close the door behind them.

“You thought we were going to have our goodbye in public?”

Clint turned around in time to see Phil’s raised eyebrow.

“I thought maybe a manly handshake,” Clint said, only partly joking.

The sound of Phil locking the door was loud in the otherwise silent office. It was Clint’s turn to raise his own eyebrow.

“I think we can do better than that,” Phil said.

Clint’s breath caught at the words, at the way Phil was looking at him; hungry, a little desperate.

“You could’ve just gone with me to our quarters,” Clint said, trying to keep his tone light. He took a step back as Phil prowled towards him, then another. It wasn’t the correct response when faced with a dangerous predator, but Clint didn’t mind inciting this one.

“We didn’t have time for that,” Phil said, both regretful and somehow full of promise.

Clint came up against the desk and his heart thumped louder in his chest. “But we have time for this?” he said, trying to keep his tone cool, collected, even though he was feeling anything but.

Phil stopped just millimeters short of touching Clint; so close he could feel the heat radiating off of him. “Do you think we don’t?”

The words were mild, but Phil’s tone was dangerous. Clint, done playing, reached out to touch him.

“Hands on the desk,” Phil commanded softly.

A shiver went through Clint, even though he couldn’t help the token protest that came out of his mouth. Phil didn’t speak, didn’t even raise an eyebrow; he just looked at Clint. Heat pooled low in Clint’s belly as he reached back to place the heel of his hands on the desk, curled his fingers around the edge and clung to the wood as if it would keep his knees from buckling.

Phil, eyes locked on Clint’s, placed his left hand against the front of Clint’s jeans. Clint’s breath left him in a rush at the feather light touch, and then he forced himself to breath in again, normally. As if he hadn’t noticed, Phil slowly moved his hand and began to unfasten Clint’s jeans.

“Did you know,” Phil began casually, “that the sensors Fitz put in this hand are 76.3% more sensitive than the human hand?”

The button slipped out of the hole and Phil began to work on the zip.

“With just a touch I can gauge your temperature.” Phil’s gaze dropped to the pulse in Clint’s neck, then back to his eyes. “Heart rate.”

The sound of the zipper parting one tooth at a time had been overly loud in Clint’s ears, but now the only sound was the pounding of his heart beat. Phil slipped his hand inside Clint’s jeans and boxer briefs, and curled fingers that were almost too hot around him.

“I can also tell,” Phil said (and his conversational tone while he had his hand wrapped around Clint’s dick was _not_ a turn on), “when you’re ready to release your first drop of pre-come before your body even knows it.”

Clint groaned, embarrassingly loudly, hands clenching around the desk until the corners bit into his skin, as Phil swiped his thumb across the tip of his dick. Clint’s whole body screamed in protest when Phil released him, but he couldn’t hold back the soft moan when Phil pressed his thumb between his lips and licked Clint’s come off of it.

“Phil,” Clint managed to say, though his throat had gone dry.

Phil curled his right hand around the back of Clint’s neck and kissed him. It started out hard and biting and only got more messy and desperate. Clint wanted to touch Phil, to slide his hands along Phil’s shoulders, down to his hip, into his hair, but he forced his hands to stay where they were, showing Phil everything he wanted to say to him, to do to him, through their kiss.

Phil slipped his other hand back inside Clint’s briefs and he took the sounds Clint made into his mouth, and then coaxed more of them out of Clint as if he needed those sounds more than he needed oxygen. Soft moans and harsh breaths filled Clint’s ears. He was only grateful that they weren’t all his. Phil’s touch had been soft, almost too gentle, and Clint had initially thought he’d been afraid of hurting him with the cybernetic hand.

Clint realized his error when Phil’s speed, the tightness of his grip, never altered. It wasn’t enough, and then it was just exactly enough, and then Clint was hanging on the edge, needing just a little bit more to push him over, and then he was falling. He would’ve called out Phil’s name if he wasn’t busy just trying to breathe. They’d broken the kiss when Clint had been unable to remember what his lips were supposed to be doing, but Phil continued to press kisses to the corner of his lips and along his jaw as Clint fell apart under his touch.

The air seemed to change around his dick, but Clint couldn’t muster the additional energy necessary to raise his hands from the desk, much less push Phil back so he could look. Even after he’d come, the pressure didn’t change. Curiosity finally roused him enough to tilt his head when Phil took a step back. Clint’s breathless huff of laughter turned into a groan when his dick pulsed in an attempt to push out one last spurt of come. It dribbled into the mini-shield that had formed to catch Clint’s come.

“What. The hell,” Clint said when he’d gathered enough breath to do so.

“Well, I couldn’t let you go to the Quinjet with come on your clothes,” Phil said, as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world to use a shield made out of energy to save on post-coital clean up.

“You could’ve damaged my dick,” Clint said as he tried to figure out just how Phil had managed to ‘deploy’ the shield.

“I have enough control to not damage your dick,” Phil said dryly.

“Yeah, to keep from being crushed or impaled by debris,” Clint said. “This is a little more delicate. Precision work.”

Phil gave Clint a raised eyebrow, and then went about fastidiously cleaning up Clint’s come, but very pointedly didn’t otherwise respond to Clint’s comment.

“Unless,” Clint said, and watched Phil’s shoulder tighten minutely. “Unless you’ve been practicing with it.” It was mostly a guess, but Phil’s continuing silence was damning. Clint couldn’t keep the glee out of his voice when he said, “Isn’t that a little bit, I don’t know, blasphemous?”

That did get a reaction – a glare that was less effective given the flush crawling up Phil’s neck. “Hardly,” he said primly, but not very convincingly.

Clint couldn’t wipe the silly grin off of his face, but he held out his hand. “Come ‘ere.”

“You’ve got to leave,” Phil said, but he moved back over to Clint.

“What about you?” Clint said, slipping his arms around Phil’s back.

“I have to stay,” Phil said, part cheek, part fatalism.

“No kidding, smart ass,” Clint said. It was difficult to keep his voice light in the face of their impending separation. “I meant . . . .” He made a lewd gesture that earned him a look that was both appalled and amused.

“I know what you meant,” Phil said. His expressions cycled as his determination to do his duty battled with how much he was going to miss Clint. Clint understood the feeling. Finally Phil managed a weak smile. “Next time,” he said. “It’ll give me something to look forward to.”

Clint gave Phil a leer, but he couldn’t muster much enthusiasm for it. “Me, too,” he said, as if just seeing Phil wouldn’t be enough. “Listen, Phil,” Clint said urgently, the fact that he’d be leaving Phil, _again_ , for who knew how long, burning like acid in his gut. “You call me. Anytime. You know I’ll be there.” The words were more desperate than Clint would’ve liked, but the emotions he’d put a lid on were suddenly bubbling over.

“I do know,” Phil said, his heart in his eyes, his voice thick with emotion. “That’s why I won’t call you. Not until you’re out of danger of being thrown back in the gulag.”

Against his will, Clint felt his lips twitch even as his eyes burned. “I’m going to miss the hell out of you.”

“Ditto,” Phil said, which earned him a watery laugh.

“I fucking hate this,” Clint said, but Phil cut off anything else he might’ve said with the hard press of his lips.

“Be safe,” Phil said when he finally pulled back and released Clint. “Also, do up your pants.”

The walk to the hangar bay was made in silence, Clint holding onto his emotions as tightly as he held onto Phil’s right hand. The others were already waiting when Clint and Phil arrived.

“You’re late, Barton,” Sam snapped, lack of sleep making his tone more prickly than he’d probably meant it to be.

Clint ignored the snappish tone and merely smirked.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Please don’t tell us what you were doing,” he begged.

“Why not?” Scott said, still looking half asleep.

“Don’t you mean, who?” Clint said, tensing for the reprimand from Phil that never came.

At those words, Scott’s eyes widened. He took in Clint’s grip on Phil’s hand, and maybe he noticed that Clint hadn’t bothered to straighten his clothes all that much, or the redness of lips that felt hot and swollen, but he suddenly blushed and said, “Yeah, okay, I’m with Sam on this one.”

Wanda gave Clint and understanding look when his eyes caught hers, so maybe he wasn’t doing as well as he thought hiding his feelings. Clint gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, but she only looked more concerned, which was actually a bit worrying.

Clint forced himself to release Phil’s hand and move towards the Quinjet. He put more effort into acting excited about flying the Quinjet when he rubbed his hands together. “Alright, kiddies, load up!”

Just then, Fitz, Simmons, and Daisy rushed into the bay, with May casually strolling behind them.

“Oh, good!” Simmons said. “You haven’t left yet.”

She rushed over and gave Clint a hug goodbye, squeezing Clint tighter than he thought her small frame capable of.

“Jesus, Jemma,” Clint said. “I’m trying to get out of here without crying.”

“We’ll take care of him,” Simmons said, her voice low, the words for Clint’s ears only, and when she pulled back her eyes were suspiciously shiny.

“Thank you,” Clint said.

He got a handshake from Fitz, a quick hug from Daisy, and a look from May, who’d stopped next to Phil, that was enough to assure Clint that he was leaving Phil in good hands, even if they weren’t his own. Clint’s eyes caught Phil’s and he couldn’t look away. Around him, Simmons, Fitz, and Daisy were all doing the ‘pleasure to meet you, have a safe trip’ thing with the others, but all Clint could see was Phil.

“Fuck it,” Clint said, and strode back over to where he’d left Phil standing.

Phil’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t try to evade Clint’s advance. He put his arms around Clint and kissed him back, and reluctantly released Clint when he could finally force himself to step back.

Behind Clint, Daisy said, “You go, D.C.!”

Phil’s eyes were dancing and he was breathless when he offered a weak reprimand. “You’re undermining my authority, Barton.”

“Bullshit, sir,” Clint said. “I just made you ten times more interesting.”

“Don’t exaggerate, Barton. It’s nine at the most.”

Clint grinned. “Take care of yourself, Phil.” The words were light, but loaded with emotion.

“You, too, Clint.”

Clint squeezed Phil’s hand, and then turned away and strode up the ramp into the Quinjet without looking back. Behind him, Clint heard Steve’s voice.

“Thank you for your help, Director.”

“You’ve more than repaid your debt, Captain,” Phil said, though he couldn’t keep his pleasure at Steve’s words out of his voice. “Besides, I couldn’t leave my husband locked up on the Raft. I’d never hear the end of it.”

“True enough,” Steve said. “And please, call me Steve.”

Clint smiled to himself as he imagined the expression on Phil’s face.

“Then you have to call me Phil.”

Clint dropped into the pilot seat and began start-up, immersing himself in the procedure and tuning out the voices behind him so he didn’t have to hear the rest of the goodbyes being said. Wanda came up front. She squeezed Clint’s shoulder before dropping into the co-pilot seat.

“Everybody on?” Clint called back.

Three voices answered in the affirmative. Clint closed the ramp and tried not to think of Phil still standing in the bay. Wanda gave Clint a look of support, and then turned her attention to the small piece of paper she held in her fingers.

“What’s that?” Clint said as the Quinjet rose.

Wanda flipped the paper so Clint could see what had been written on it. “Mags, Agent Bartlett, gave me her phone number,” she said, sounding confused.

“Called it,” Clint said gleefully, and at least left the Playground, and Phil, with a smile on his face.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I made a big oops when I was writing this fic. I forgot that Phil’s leg had been broken until I re-watched the eps before I began editing. At that point it was kind of impossible to correct that detail and not have to change a huge amount of the story. So let’s just pretend that they have access to some sort of equipment that healed Phil’s leg extra fast, ‘kay?!!
> 
> 2\. I gave HIVE more Inhumans because I figured he’d have controlled more than just the handful we saw.


End file.
